Dark Side of the Rainbow
by xGuiltyxPleasure
Summary: CoFic with MrsRoy. Everyone has a dark side, one which is never shown. Troy never quite understood Sharpay or her Ice Princess facade but when the two meet again at the King of Diamonds strip club, he soon realizes that life holds no meaning without her.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

In retrospect, it was surprising that the boss had selected her from his broad array of options. To a hallowed observer, she was a far cry from his normal taste. She wasn't anorexic, top heavy or blue-eyed. She wasn't young enough to be his daughter either, and that seemed to be a prerequisite as of late.

The only thing she had going for her was that she was truly beautiful. There was no denying that. She was all class, dare he even say, flawless?

The house lights in the crowded strip club were low, save for a few spotlights providing shafts of illumination for the gyrating dancers. The music was a steady, almost incoherent beat that swindled the cheap linoleum beneath Troy's feet and rattled his back molars. The half empty bottle of beer that sat on the scarred wooden table before him slid slightly in the surplus of its own condensation, the liquid inside wallowing in time to the beat. The establishment was filled to capacity that Friday night, and the busty waitresses struggled to squeeze through the close quarters with their crammed trays of liquor.

On the stage that extended beyond the elaborate assembly of tables, a motley assortment of women danced to the music in various stages of dress and undress. Some swung around golden poles that disappeared into a gray cloud of second hand smoke, while others took up residence on the floor of the platform, grinding amongst littered articles of clothing. Leaning against the faux wood paneled wall, a crew of security guards with beefy arms crossed over their chests surveyed the crowd.

The beautiful woman had lay claim to a small piece of freehold in the centre of the stage. Petite by God's own design, the strappy black stilettos clinging to her feet extended her long legs for miles, giving the illusion of height, and her golden hair gleamed when it caught the glare of the spotlight. Her skin and eyes were both a shade darker than many of the pale blondes surrounding her; she was burnished, exotic. A lone, glittering amber amidst a sea of diamonds.

Troy narrowed his eyes as he watched her, at times hardly sure that she was the same girl he'd known at all. For all the times she'd tapped and shimmied on the auditorium stage in high school, he'd never seen her dance like this before.

Her body moved effortlessly in time to the music, thick mascara-lined lids closed as she slid her torso suggestively along the length of the prosperous golden pole. The tiny boy shorts and filmy, off the shoulder tank she wore did little to hide her impressive figure or the fact she wasn't wearing a bra.

Despite the collection of eyes upon her, she danced as if no one was watching, as if she were all alone in some kind of desolate hideaway.

Christ, watching her dance made him hard as hell. It had been a while since that had happened.

A gnarled finger imbedding itself into the crook of his elbow drew Troy's gaze away from the dance floor. Beside him, Ethan Soloman watched the dancers raptly, his cigarette dangling haplessly from his tainted lips.

"I don't recognize her, do you?"

Troy had to lean forward to catch his boss's words, the older man's soft voice swallowed by the tumult of the music. He could feel his breath labor, as he averted his eyes, having no intentions of giving the man her name.

His only method of stalling was to play dumb.

"Which one?"

Solomansmiled, his white teeth bright in the obsolete darkness. "You know which one. The one we're both staring at."

Troy reluctantly looked back up at the women in question, his mind immediately retrieving the name. Sharpay. There was no one else in the world he was aware of with the same name, and it suited her in that sense. It stood out in the same way she did among the other dancers in the room. Even in the skimpy attire, moving in ways he'd never known she was capable of, he was certain it was her.

"She must be new, boss. I don't recognize her."

In the private security of Troy's own mind, he was screaming at the other men as they leered at her, 'She's only seventeen!' It was the age at which he had last seen her, and thus his mental image of her had remained frozen in time until this point. Even as he ogled her with his own eyes, he felt his blood boil at every low whistle and profanity directed at her from the men in the audience. She didn't deserve to be objectified. She was pure and innocent; in his mind she was still a child.

With a self-satisfied nod, Soloman leaned back in his chair, the metal creaking as he took a drag on his cigarette. After several minutes the incessant chromatics finally changed and the performers started to slink off stage, waving at their admiring fans coyly while a new troop ventured out into the spotlights to replace them. Some of the retiring performers had barely made it behind the curtain before they had started to pluck the tips from their G-strips.

Tapping his cigarette into the groove of the heavy glass ashtray, Solomon seemed lost in thought for a moment before he turned to Troy and made the dreaded but familiar request. "I want her. Bring her to me."

* * *

><p>xGuiltyxPleasure's AN: So as stated in the summary, this is a co-fic between me and MrsRoy. My first experience co-writing a story, so hopefully it goes well. :) This is just a prologue, but I really hope y'all will like the story.

And MrsRoy says: "It's going to be an awesome story of ups and downs, but mostly really hot Troypay. LOL."

Please review, and let us know what you think!

xoxo.


	2. Chapter 2

Troy's thick fingers inched their way across his forehead and for the third time in as many minutes, he rubbed his temple, the circular motion seemingly soothing the palpable ache that had been throbbing away at his sanity for the past half hour. He'd managed, thus far, to convince his boss that Sharpay was too fresh, that she was vulnerable and breakable and he was setting himself up for failure if he did not ease her into the game.

Time, Troy did not have. Every second of every moment, the clock ticked over and sands cut through the hour glass. He had to confront Sharpay. He had to get her alone, and in the back of his mind he had to throw her over his shoulder and run, away from Solomon and away from the dangers of her degrading submissions.

From the moment he had witnessed her upon the stage, he was transfixed, his eyes had been solely upon Sharpay, and he had swallowed thickly. The lump in his throat was hard to expel, because he knew that a sexual act only satisfied when mutual. He'd been on the receiving end, he'd played hard and fast, too much booze, a shot at dreams that saw him falling into the clutches of the underbelly.

What benefit could Sharpay possibly reap from her actions? She looked lost and broken, she gave no response. Her demeanor was cold, the surrender of her body without love or desire, depriving her of simple dignities.

This was not the same girl, not the Sharpay he had known back then.

He eyed her across the room, an area where the dancers changed into their outfits, and lounged together waiting for their shift. A sort of green room in the world of strip clubs, but nothing like the one he was used to seeing her emerge from. He was tempted to approach her and demand she go put something on with a full feathered skirt and a sequined bodice. It would settle his stomach to see her transfrom back into the girl he remembered.

He let go of the ridiculous notion as he watched her bend over, reaching for a large bag on the ground. Not an inch of her smooth, toned legs was not on display, and Troy had to force himself to wipe away the image of the high school drama queen in his head. She was a woman now.

His palms were sweating, and he scrubbed them against his jeans as he took a timid step forward. With more confidence, however forced it was, he began walking towards her at a rapid pace.

"Sharpay." He spoke her name once he was an arm's length behind her, his voice soft but eager.

He heard a small cry escape from her lips as she whipped her head around to face him, and he watched her eyes widen in shock as she took in the familiar sight of his face. After a few brief seconds, she managed to smooth her facial features again, staring at him expressionless.

"Yes?" She placed her hands on her hips, and Troy sucked in a breath as her showcased chest was now poking out at him.

He felt his eyes involuntarily drop down and he just as quickly forced them back up, past Sharpay's pouting mouth and piercing eyes, angling his vision towards the high wood ceiling. He did not want his loins playing any part in his first interaction with her, especially considering his primary goal was to convince her to leave this place, where she would be nothing more than a sexual object in the end.

He recited nursery rhymes in his head as he lolled the ache in his groin, caused by her for the second time that night.

"Ahem."

She cleared her throat, and he lowered his gaze back to meet hers, while she eyed him expectantly.

"Hey." He murmured, a small smile playing on his lips, not void of affection.

What were the chances that he would find her here, miles away from home, in a world like this? It was as if fate was calling him, God was sending him down the message that she was his to protect.

Her eyes rolled back into her head, annoyed, and she responded with a skeptical, "Hey?"

Troy's face fell, and he realized she wasn't willing to admit their connection. His eyes were drawn to her mouth, where she now had the edge of her lower lip captured between her teeth, gently working it back and forth. He registered her anxiety, and understood that this was not the sort of place you'd want to be recognized by someone from your past. He sympathized, but even still he was not willing to play along, given the circumstances.

"Sharpay."

She cringed when he spoke her name again, and he suddenly felt guilty, hating that he was making her so uncomfortable.

"It's me, Troy." He forced himself to persist.

She shook her head, as if the name meant nothing to her, and finally attempted to escape the situation.

"I'm sorry." She murmured, trying to step past him.

"Sharpay." He gently grabbed her by the arm to stop her, "I know you know who I am."

"I already said I don't." She hissed with insistence.

"We went to East High together. We went to middle school together. We went to elementary school together?" He ran down the list, holding a steady gaze with her, "We did theater together. You wore a lot of pink."

"Okay!" She snapped, forced to give in.

She took a step back, freeing her arm from his gentle grip, and then swallowed, slowly nodding her head, "Oh yeah... I think I remember you."

Troy couldn't resist the urge to roll his eyes. She wasn't exactly putting her best acting skills to work.

He lowered his voice, "What are you doing _here_?"

"Dancing for money." She informed him, speaking slowly; mocking him with the more than obvious answer.

Troy groaned, irritated with her for making it so painful to communicate at all, "Your shift is over?"

"If it wasn't I'd still be on stage right now, wouldn't I?" The acrimony with which she spoke, while slightly off-putting, relieved Troy in the sense that it was finally something that matched with his original memory of her. Beyond that, he took her defensive tone to signal hidden fears, another sign that it was his job to look out for her.

"I'm off too. I was wondering if you'd like to get a cup of coffee?" He eyed her hopefully.

She reached into the bag now draped over her shoulder, retrieving her cell phone and pressing a button to luminate the screen.

"At three am?"

He reached for her free hand, softly incasing it in his own, and tugging her slightly, "It's the city that never sleeps."

* * *

><p>"So..." Troy shifted awkwardly, readjusting himself on the hard, red plastic booth he was seated on, his eyes transfixed solely on her.<p>

She had not uttered a single word on the walk over, he wondered if she had taken a breath at all, barely able to share the same air that he breathed. He had chosen the closest coffee shop around, what he considered a "safe" area, four blocks down from the club. She had been bundled up, wrapped tight in a long plush coat to hide the skimpy outfit she had yet to change out of, a woolen scarf wound up past her mouth to shield her face from the harsh winter air.

"Hm?" Her eyes, unlike his, were fixed downwards, staring blankly into her cup of coffee, recently brought to her by the waitress.

She reached to the right of the table, retrieving a single packet of creamer, and upended it into the lifeless liquid, watching the contrasting color spread, until it was completely absolved.

"You've hardly spoken two words to me." He tried to chuckle, but the attempted laugh seemed to become lodged in his throat and the noise sounded more like a repressed tickle as he rasped roughly.

"You're the one who wanted to have this little 'talk,' you provide the conversation." She brought the lip of the mug to her lips, blowing across the surface of the hot caffeine hit. Steam wisped and cured in Troy's direction, evaporating in the air before it could reach him.

"I've missed you." The words rolled forth from his tongue before he had a chance to worry about coming on too strong.

It wasn't, in its entirety, the utter truth. Yes, he had thought of her from time to time, much like he had many of his high school acquaintances, and perhaps smiled at the memory of better days, when his future still lay ahead of him, laced with promise and a carefree brand of uncertainty. But never had he longed in particular for Sharpay. In his eyes, he had never quite perceived her as a person who had earned a special kind of place in his life, other than the very minor role she had held in his past.

But seeing her that night had brought a new sort of nostalgia upon him. Suddenly she was a part of his destiny, a bridge between the youth that had ended all too soon, and the dark world he now found himself a part of in his day to day life.

The fact that he had not truly "missed her" until mere hours earlier was irrelevant. He wished she had been a part of his life all those years; that he could have prevented her from ever setting foot upon the ill fated realm of The King of Diamonds. He wanted to have that close bond with her he was now hell bent on forming; to have her sitting beside him in the booth, rather than across from him, huddled tightly against him, latched in the sanctuary of his arms, and safe from the mind of Ethan Soloman and any treachery he may have planned.

"I doubt that's true." She still neglected to look at him, seeming much more enthralled with her coffee.

Troy leaned forward, deciding to bite the bullet and skip the small talk, she seemed unwilling to engage in it anyway.

"Really, why are you working there?"

"Why does anyone work anywhere? I need the money." She shivered, and took another sip of her piping hot drink to warm her from the inside out and then added, "New York is a tough place to survive."

"But how did you end up _there_?" He persisted.

"I was at a dance club. Some shady guy came up to me and told me he could get me a job if I wanted one, he gave me a business card and a number. I didn't plan on taking him up on the offer, but I held onto the number, just in case. So I guess..." She cleared her throat, "It wasn't until two weeks ago, three months after the club encounter that I decided to call about the job offer. I'd heard that the better looking strippers made a nice chunk of cash in tips, and I had just been handed an eviction notice from my landlady."

Troy's nostrils flared, and he stared her dead on, his eyes dark and short of pleading. "You should quit."

"Excuse me?" She scoffed, shaking her head of angelic blonde hair in defiance, "Do you think having men shove twenties in my g-string is more degrading than sleeping on the sidewalks of Manhattan?"

"Do something else." Troy suggested, "What were you before?"

"A failing actress." Her tone was heavy and laced with venom, but he sensed the malice in her voice was directed at herself rather than him.

He resigned himself to the fact that the chances of convincing her tonight to run away from the situation she had unwittingly put herself in were slim, but he put forth another futile effort anyway, "Ethan Soloman is not the kind of guy you need to get mixed up with. I know first hand."

"Wait, he's the owner of King of Diamonds, right?" She clarified.

Troy laughed bitterly, "He _is _The King."

"Well I'm not 'mixed up with him,' so don't worry. We've never met." She dismissed his concern, and reached for her bag beside her on the seat, growing impatient with the conversation, and ready to leave now that her coffee had cooled to a temperature only slightly above lukewarm.

"If he has anything to say about it, things won't stay that way." He warned her.

"What do you mean?" Her curiosity was peaked enough for her to hold her bag in her lap, remaining seated while she waited for his answer.

"Tonight was your first night and you definitely caught his attention." Troy grimaced, as he reminded himself of his boss' intentions towards the girl he now felt the universe had delegated him to watch over.

"He watched me dance?" She scooted forward in her seat slightly, the corners of her mouth turning up with the first trace of happiness she had shown all night. "Did he say I was good?"

"He said he wanted you." Troy saw no point in shielding Sharpay from Soloman's agenda.

"Oh..." Her face fell slightly, but she quickly rebutted, "Well, that's probably good, right? I mean if your job depends on sex appeal, you want your boss to find you attractive."

"No." Troy answered firmly, "You don't. Not him."

She sighed heavily, shutting down again fast once he failed to say the things she wanted to hear.

"It's been nice catching up, Troy, but I'm exhausted, and I should probably be heading home now if you don't mind. Thanks for the coffee."

She started to stand, but he quickly reached across the table, grabbing her hand to stop her. His heart ached, though he didn't know why, to be honest, he could barely fathom the feelings his mind was so seemingly conjuring. Was he convinced or confused? He had no answer.

"Wait! Let me walk you home."

"I live all the way on 74th street." She answered, "I'm just going to take the subway home."

"At four in the morning?" Troy exclaimed, "You can't take the subway at this hour by yourself. It's not safe! I'll take it with you, and walk you to your apartment."

"And where do you live?" She challenged him.

"29th." He admitted.

"Troy, I do it all the time. I'll be fine." She attempted to leave once more, but yet again he found himself voicing his protest.

"No! Let me buy you a cab."

"That's okay Troy-"

"Please?" He stopped her protest, and stood up himself, offering her his hand and helping her to her feet. "I'd really feel better about it if you did."

"Okay." She gave in, not truly bothered by the idea of avoiding the metro and the characters she might encounter there at this time of night, even though in the back of her mind she knew it was inevitable that she would end up in that situation soon, given the shifts for her new job.

"First," Troy bent over, grabbing a napkin from the dispenser on the edge of the table, "Do you have a pen in that bag?"

Sharpay glanced down at it, hooked over her arm, and nodded mutely, digging inside until she withdrew one and handed it over to him.

"Thanks." He murmured.

She waited while he jotted down something on the napkin, and then handed both items back to her.

"That's my phone number and my address." He explained, "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call and if you need somewhere to stay, my door is always open."

She shoved the napkin into her bag, and mumbled a hasty expression of gratitude, "Thanks, I guess," Though she had to concede, there was still a part of him, that teenage boy so eager to please, the one she often thought about.

Troy escorted her to the street, and stood on the edge of the sidewalk with her, facing the lanes of busy traffic found only in New York. He flailed his hand out several times in an effort to flag down a taxi for her, but with little success. After failing several times at capturing a driver's attention, Sharpay raised one dainty finger in the air, and a cab pulled alongside the curb in mere seconds.

Troy opened the door for her, helping her in, and then reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and withdrawing a large sum of cash from it, enough to cover the cab fare regardless of traffic and time, and then some. He leaned forward, offering the driver the money.

"This will cover her to 74th?" He verified.

"Sure." The driver accepted the payment agreeably.

"Are you working tomorrow night?" Troy asked her, pulling his head back out of the cab so as to not invade her personal space.

She nodded mutely, and he grasped the edge of the yellow door, preparing to close it.

"Good. I'll see you then. Sweet dreams."

Sharpay started to return the sentiment, but he shut the cab door, and the driver pulled away from the curb without a moment's hesitation.

Troy stood behind on the sidewalk, his heart heavy, fearing for her safety, and even more so, her own happiness. Even though she didn't know it, she needed him now more than she ever had.

* * *

><p>xGuiltyxPleasure's AN: First official chapter up! Hopefully y'all all liked. I'm sorry it took so long, but co-writing is a process, and we're both still getting the hang of it. Thanks for all who reviewed last chapter, but we definitely need more! Please, please leave your thoughts.

MrsRoy's A/N: Thank you for all of the lovely comments, though we really would like to see more, please don't be afraid to tell us what you think. We really adore Troypay, and I trust that we can do them justice. Please, enjoy.

xoxo.


	3. Chapter 3

Sharpay hummed around her tiny one bedroom apartment as she prepared to commence her before bed ritual of cleansing and preening. Her mother had conditioned her to act like a lady; the teeth-whitening wand that took pride of place beside her toothbrush was evidence enough that her roots were still somewhat deeply imbedded within her consciousness.

What she had said to Troy earlier in the evening, even the very little, still ran true. The attractive women kept themselves looking shiny and new.

Sharpay sat on top of her bed with her legs crossed beneath her. Her fluffy white towelling robe was knotted loosely around her waist, the two halves pulled taut together, the flowing fabric bunched up around her thighs as she dipped her fingers into the cool gel-cream mask that already partly covered her t zone.

Had she lied when she'd called herself a failing actress? Sharpay didn't think so. So technically she was a wash up, not even daddy's money could buy her screen time. A Diva of sorts, director after director had murmured and mumbled before proclaiming that she was a prima donna and effectively refused to cast her as the antagonist let alone the heroine. She was unable to pick up an agent, she was swept aside at far too many open call auditions, and all parts she had landed on screen had been bit roles that were never enough to provide a steady income, not to mention to satisfy her own quench for performing. She had talent, why couldn't others see the potential she offered? Musical theatre just wasn't enough; it could not satisfy her longings, but had she developed her talent at the expense of her character?

Sharpay sighed and screwed the lid back onto her jar. As she worked the formula into her skin, a familiar melody struck her lips and she managed to wrap her tongue around a few bars, articulating the lyrics like a life of violent emotional contradictions.

Her lips curled into a smile as she increased the volume with each phrase, each harmonious word that she sang. The words 'once upon a time' had never seemed more appropriate.

"You are ... the music in me," Sharpay finished, beaming with tenderness as the notes lingered in the air around her. If she closed her eyes she could still hear his voice, committed to her with the courage to roar.

Had she really been hanging on for all of those years? Sharpay shook her head, the memories fading like a brief moment of nostalgia was gone and Sharpay was left with the harsh light of reality. The good-byes had hurt, so she'd pushed them to the very tips of her toes in the hope that they'd stay put, that they would refuse to make a recurring appearance.

She and Troy had had their moments, and Sharpay knew that she could not relive her past; there was nothing she could change, nothing she could salvage. But Troy seemed so sure about Solomon and she'd never known him to lie about something so serious. Troy had been firm with her, he'd watched her, not once had he broken eye contact. Sharpay's body trembled as she remembered the intensity with which he'd looked into her eyes.

Perhaps she was reading too much into the whole situation. Troy was a good guy, and Sharpay thought that he'd never have let Gabriella so much as set foot across the threshold of an establishment like The King of Diamonds. He was being polite; his parent's had raised him to be a gentleman, trying to spare her the embarrassment of a stripper's legacy.

Admittedly, Sharpay knew very little about Ethan Solomon. He was a business man, her employer. Beyond that she had nothing else to go on where the man was concerned. She wondered what he was capable of. He had to be powerful. Of that she was certain.

Spying the white crumpled napkin that sat on the end table where she had placed it after rummaging through her purse for some gum, Sharpay tapped her fingers on the edge of her knee as she considered picking up the phone and calling Troy. It was extremely late, or very early depending on how you looked at it, but she was sure he was still up. After all, he had just gotten off his night shift a couple of hours ago. Surely he unwinded and relaxed before laying down to sleep. He was probably watching some late night infomercial like every other bachelor in the city of New York.

And then a thought struck Sharpay. Was Troy a bachelor? Did he have somebody waiting for him at home? A body to warm his bed, to hold him at night when that ache in the pit of your gut started to gnaw and you felt so utterly alone? Was it Gabriella or perhaps somebody else? She wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to know.

She reached for her phone, beside her on the bed, and picked it up, holding it in her hand in consideration. He had said to call him at anytime, and he had truly seemed to take a genuine interest in her and getting to know her. She knew she couldn't go to sleep yet, and she was somewhat curious as to what she would be encountering during her new job. Beyond that, she was worried she may have come off too cold during their first interaction. She had been startled, embarrassed to be found working in a place like that by some boy she had crushed on throughout high school. When he had tried to convince her to quit, she had felt attacked, scrutinized for her job choice. She realized after he had sent her home in a cab and handed her his number, that he was truly just trying to look out for her.

With a small nod to herself, she plucked up the napkin between slender fingers, and blinked, staring down at the number that was scrawled in smeared ink. Decidedly, she pulled up the dial screen on her phone and typed it in, holding her breath while she listened to the dial tone.

"Hello?" His voice sounded curious on the other end, as if he weren't used to being called at this ungodly hour, but he was not necessarily upset about it either.

"Troy?" She breathed out, already regretting having called him. What did she have to say, really? He had said to call her if she ever needed anything, as in, an emergency situation. What did she need now, other than workplace gossip and a voice to talk to on the other end of the phone.

"Sharpay?" He verified her identity, and she smiled a little at the recognition.

"Yeah. Sorry for calling so late..."

"It's fine." He jumped in without hesitation, "Is something wrong?"

"No. I'm fine." She bit her lower lip, "I just couldn't sleep, and I was thinking about everything you told me earlier. I thought maybe you could elaborate a little? You know, um, give me a little bit more of an insight? But if you're sleeping ..."

"No, no. I don't go to sleep until the morning. I'm kind of nocturnal these days. At least, I am when I'm working." He trailed off, "What did you want to know?"

"Is Ethan Soloman... a dangerous man?" She swallowed, suddenly picturing herself in a skimpy outfit, left in a dumpster, disposed of after running her mouth to the boss. She shuddered, and shook her head at her own morbidity in distaste.

"Well..." This was a difficult question for Troy to answer, and one that had to be answered delicately. He wanted to get the point across to Sharpay that this man was bad news and she needed to stay away. At the same time, he didn't want to have her fearing going to work every day, when clearly, she intended to continue at the King of Diamonds for the time being.

"He can be." He answered.

"What does that mean?" She asked, surprised at the small tremor she heard in her own voice. This had all been so much, facing the cold streets of New York on her own, facing one rejection after another in her pursuit of being an actress, struggling financially to the point that she almost lost her apartment, and finally ending up in a strip club, a place she never pictured herself working, and having Troy terrify her with encrypted warning messages to steer clear of the business' owner.

"He gets what he wants and if he doesn't, things tend to get ugly." Troy sighed, "I've seen it happen before."

Sharpay decided to ask another question that had been on her mind, "What do you do there?"

"I'm sort of Soloman's right hand man." He replied, "A body guard of sorts I guess. I keep him out of trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Sharpay fiddled with a lock of her fair hair, again having gruesome flashes of herself in deadly situations.

"I can't really talk about that." He felt guilty, knowing he had rattled her nerves, only to leave her hanging, left to warp the mystery in his last statement into any horrible scenario her imagination might conjure up.

Feeling obligated to soothe her if only a little, he added, "Look, I'm not saying someone's going to put you in a body bag or anything. I'm worried he's going to hurt you... in other ways."

"Oh." Her voice sounded completely carefree once again, and Troy was worried he might have eased her of all worry, at her own expense.

"Well don't worry about that. I can handle myself in those situations Troy, I've been there before." She smiled at herself in the mirror across the room, admiring her reflection. She couldn't blame the men; really, she was an image of perfection, in her own mind at least.

Now riding on the peculiar boost of self confidence she got, imagining herself the favourite of her boss, even among a room full of beautiful, half-naked dancing girls, her loneliness was fading. Perhaps she did not need to have called Troy anyhow.

She lounged back on the pillows propping her up in bed, and extended a leg in front of her in the air, admiring the fresh pedicure on her toes. Cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder, she emitted a casual sigh, "Well, I guess I'll let you get back to your girlfriend now..."

Troy chuckled softly; the hidden inquiry having not gone unnoticed by him, "Oh, actually, I'm a single guy, Sharpay."

On the other end of the line, Sharpayraised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, but then exhaled, and with as much disinterest as she could muster, replied, "Hm."

Troy smiled softly, "Good night,Sharpay," He murmured.

"Good night..." She started to pull the phone away from her face to end the call.

"Sharpay?"

"Mhm?" She pulled the cell back to her ear.

"Call me again, you know, if you have any questions, or you just can't sleep." He sounded hopeful, and Sharpay was relieved, given the chance to win the upper hand again.

"Maybe." She replied shortly, and before he could voice another response, her thumb was pressed down on the image of a red button on her touch screen dial.

Glancing back towards her mirror again, she let out a groan. She decided it was for the best that she did go to sleep soon, less she face puffy eyes the next day that no mountain of concealer could reduce.

* * *

><p>The sunrise dawned as shades of sanguine crept through the darkness; a golden veil of wonder spilled through the cracks in the old timber shutters that embellished Sharpay's window panes, and yet Sharpay continued to sleep. The small pink alarm clock that sat by her bed head had been set to chime at five o'clock that afternoon, her next shift was at ten, she still had plenty of time.<p>

Not too far away, just a hop, skip and jump from this corner of town, Troy propped himself up on his old couch. His chest was bare and he folded his arms behind his head as he settled his body into the scratchy, plaid fabric, the groove of his body moulding to the place where he had spent many a night. This was the place he shifted to when he could not sleep. He deprived himself the privilege of a bed and sheets whenever he found his mind a place void of comforts as well.

He was worried for Sharpay, he knew that tonight would be the night that Solomon would demand her presence and he also knew that he had to be there, come hell or high water, Solomon would not shut him out, not now, not ever. Not while there was a chance that he could hurt Sharpay, and Troy knew that there was a very real chance.

Many had come before Sharpay, many that had slipped through Troy's fingers, meaningless, nameless faces that couldn't be saved, that were simply a means to an end.

Troy shook his head and balled his fists. He wouldn't allow Solomon to take Sharpay.

* * *

><p>Sharpay rolled her fishnet stockings, being mindful of her nails as the sheer layer peeled from her knee, trailing the length of her smooth legs as she pulled the garment from her foot and circled her ankle, once, twice, three times.<p>

She placed the item into her shoulder bag as she reminded herself that they were in desperate need of a wash.

From the shadows of the dressing room, a broad shouldered man approached her dressing table, his arms were folded over his chest and an ear piece curled around the nape of his neck as it sat neatly against the collar of his dress shirt.

"What can I do for you, Bonito?" Sharpay asked, her face a mask as she continued to watch her reflection in the large square mirror, the twinkling bulbs that dotted the frame affording enough light that she could see what she was doing as she drew a soft moisturising pad across the bridge of her nose.

"Boss wants to see you, Miss Evans. His office, zero two hundred hours," The man spoke calmly, efficiently.

Sharpay swallowed thickly, a lick of sweat forming on her upper lip.

"Let Mister Solomon know that it will be my pleasure," She spoke firmly, willing her voice not to waver.

The man shook his head and laughed at Sharpay, though whether it related to her ignorance or her fortitude, she was unsure.

"That's where you're mistaken, Miss Evans," He licked his lips and his eyes grew wide as he committed the shape of her curves to his memory. "The pleasure, that's all for the boss."

* * *

><p>Sharpay forced her hand to continue the circular strokes as she brushed over her cheek, trying to remove any trace of makeup, of impurity, trying to rid herself of the evidence of her lowly life. She wanted to be fresh, to face this man as Sharpay Evans, not some made up doll that he could take for granted. She took a deep breath and continued this part of her routine.<p>

Her legs were shaky and though she tried, there was no way that Sharpay could possibly buy herself anymore time. She cringed at the thought, is this what Troy had been talking about? The butterflies in her tummy, they weren't a good feeling. Her mother had always told her to follow her instincts, Trust your instincts, she would say, your active imagination is your greatest friend on the director's stage.

Sharpay could do this, she could. Besides, Solomon was harmless really, he was rich and famous, and somebodythat notable could not possibly get away with murder.

She knocked at the door, her knuckles wrapping, her hand trembling slightly, and was awarded with a curt – "Come." Carefully she turned the door knob, stepping through the door and into the dark room where Solomon sat at his polished mahogany desk.

"Ah, Sharpay," He spoke as he closed the folder in front of him and offered her a crooked smile.

"Hello, Mister Solomon. You wanted to see me?" She spoke, trying to stifle the tremor that threatened to slip past her lips. His hair was slicked back and his eyes were dark and potentially soulless. A scar ran the length of his face, from temple to chin, a twisted, angry line of torture that she could not rip her gaze from.

When she realised that she had been staring the whole time, she apologised and looked at the ground, too embarrassed to look at the man who sat before her, too wrapped up in her own uncertainty.

"Please, do not be upset," He touched the scar with the tip of his finger, tracing the line that was set into his features. "It's hard not to stare, I do it myself. I'm not sure you ever really get used to it. Please, take a seat, Sharpay, where are my manners?"

It was then that Sharpay recognized the figure that stood behind her boss, Ethan Solomon. She could not forget those eyes, those deep, blue eyes that were so beautiful.

"This," Solomon threw him thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his right hand man, "This is Troy. He is my best man. Been through a lot with me, Troy has. And you, Sharpay, you are a very, very beautiful young woman."

Sharpay clenched her thighs together, an immediate response. She was unsure as to where this conversation was going; she did not have the faintest clue.

"Troy is going to take care of you for me, anything you need, anything you want, Troy is the person you ask. No other, do you understand?"

"Yes," Sharpay nodded her head, not really sure she should deny his request.

"I have seen you dance, Sharpay. You are flawless, my beauty. You flow like the winds, your body, simply breath taking. You, my Darling, you are my little gem."

Behind Solomon, standing with his hands behind his back, Troy rolled his eyes. He had heard this speech before, countless times. It was his weapon, his lasso; it was how Solomon reeled in his women and won them over. For a devious man, he was quite the Casanova.

Sharpay felt herself smile; maybe Solomon wasn't as bad as Troy had made out. He was certainly pleasant enough, not her type, but she could learn to like him, he certainly liked her. She was proud, she took care of herself and the proof was evident, Solomon's words stroking her ego for all it was worth.

"Thank you, Sir," Sharpay spoke. "I do my best, I mean; you deserve the best, right? I won't let you down."

"No, I can tell that you are a keeper, Sharpay. You are going to be one of the best I have ever had."

Troy tried not to flinch as he watched Sharpay beam with pride. The meaning was utterly lost on this woman. How could she be so blind? Surely she could read between the lines. He knew that this was not going to be easy.

"Just remember," Solomon spoke. "Whatever you need, Troy here will deliver."

* * *

><p>AN, from both of us: Okay, we're actually getting into the plot now. Please, please send more reviews, it gets us motivated. :)

Hope you liked.

xoxo.


	4. Chapter 4

Troy downed the last of his drink, his tongue curling slightly, absorbing the heady liquid as he tipped the glass away from his lips. He set the tumbler down on top of the ring of condensation it had already left on the timber counter top in front of him and exhaled heavily.

"How about another one?"

He swiveled his head back to look at Solomon, seated on the barstool beside him, his fifth drink in hand. Troy vehemently shook his head, knowing his third serving of alcohol should always be his last. He had never handled his liquor very well, nor did he enjoy it in large portions.

Solomon, on the other hand, could consume near his own weight in alcohol, it seemed, without suffering a single stumble in his step or slur in his speech.

The boss downed the entirety of his drink, not a single shot either, in one gulp, and held up his finger to the bar tender to ask for one more. Immediately he was served, before the other customers seated around them, but no one dare voiced a complaint.

Solomon let out a low whistle, "She's a beauty, isn't she?"

Troy didn't even have to look in the direction in which his boss' eyes were now angled to know he was talking about Sharpay. He did so anyway, to satisfy his own desire to gaze at her much in the way Solomon was. He could feel his pupils dilating immediately, and felt a coil in his belly, a feeling that was sure to soon spread lower if he didn't remove his eyes from Sharpay's prominently displayed curves, moving to the beat in ways so suggestive it was tortuous.

He was so preoccupied with watching Sharpay, that he forgot to answer Solomon's question, and the other man looked back at him after his companion's silence was too prolonged.

Solomon chuckled loudly, and Troy was startled out of his lustful gaze, directing his eyes to his boss once again.

"I can tell you agree. Hell, men are emptying their entire wallets to keep her dancing on their laps as long as possible. And she doesn't even do half the stuff that, say, Tiffany or, uh, Lexi will do. There's just something about her. She really catches the eye." Solomon trailed off as he became more entranced with Sharpay's dance.

Troy allowed himself to look back at her again while his boss' attention was away from him. She hooked her arms behind her head, latching on to the pole behind her body, and slowly slidherself down it. Troy could feel beads of perspiration forming at his temples, wondering at what point in her dance her breasts would be fully exposed to all of the men in the joint, eagerly waiting with hungry eyes.

Her head tilted as she moved back up the pole, and her eyes shot out across the crowded room. Troy nearly had a heart attack as her line of vision came to rest on him, and they locked eye contact. He immediately turned away, lowering his eyes guiltily to the floor, ashamed to have been caught by her, ogling her in the same way as all of the other low-lifes in the building. He did not dare to look back up at her again, fearing that she was still watching him.

"I want you to do me a favor."

He was forced to direct his gaze away from the linoleum beneath him at his boss' request.

"What?" He tried to sound apathetic, though there was a very real sense of dread nestled in the pit of his gut, knowing whatever came out of his boss' mouth next would involve Sharpay.

"Look out for her." Solomon instructed, "Take her out to eat, make sure she gets home safely; guard her like you do me. Nobody touches her, not man, not woman. Make sure she remains untouched."

Troy knew it was a dangerous feat to argue with Solomon, but he tried to reason calmly, "Isn't that really her own decision?"

The glare that he was met with silenced all opposition from him.

"I want her to be ready for me when the time comes. Let the pie bake in the oven for a while before it's ready for consumption."

Solomon let out a hearty laugh, and Troy shut his eyes, grimacing from the crass joke.

Gritting his teeth, he conceded, "I'll watch out for her."

He was met with a gratuitous pat on the back.

* * *

><p>Sharpay lingered about the back room, stopping to admire her reflection, gathering her things one at a time, and glancing about every few seconds as if she were looking for someone. It was true, now that her shift had ended she could not wait to free herself from this smoke filled house of drunkards that was now her place of work. But she had a gut intuition that Troy would be coming soon to see her, and despite her attempts to keep a cool, comfortable distance from the boy from her past, there was an undeniable eagerness she felt every time she thought of him. She bubbled internally, practically giddy, a word that rarely described Sharpay Evans.<p>

When she felt a hand rest gently on her shoulder, as she was reaching onto a shelf to retrieve her handbag, she turned around with a coquettish smile, expecting to be greeted by Troy's face.

But it was not a pair of deep blue pools that met her, but rather the shining dark eyes of Ethan Soloman. She visibly jumped before she could compose herself, and afterwards cursed internally to herself, hating for him to witness signs of fear or vulnerability from her.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you Sweetheart." Solomon smiled soothingly at her, his hand remaining where he had placed it, lightly cupping her shoulder.

"Oh. It was just I wasn't expecting you." She replied, holding her voice steadily, "I thought it would be one of the other girls."

She felt a second intense gaze on her, other than the one belonging to Solomon, and as she peered over his shoulder, she locked eyes for the second time that night with Troy Bolton.

She felt her posture relax, somehow knowing she would be safe as long as Troy was in the room with her. She had just become reacquainted with him a week ago, but from the very start he had asserted protection over her, making it his responsibility to see that she was never put in any compromising position.

"I couldn't resist the urge to stop by and pay my compliments to you. I was watching you tonight, from the bar. You looked like an angel. All of the men were simply hypnotized, myself included."

As he hung in the background, Troy waited for Sharpay's reaction, feeling nauseated as he watched her lower her eyes coyly to the ground, before looking back up at Solomon with a kittenish smile. He was disheartened as he witnessed how quickly she was already falling into Solomon's trap, taken in so easily by his flattery.

"Troy!" Solomon glanced back at his right hand man, "Come over here."

Somewhat reluctantly, Troy trudged over to where Solomon and Sharpay stood across from each other, a mere six inches or so between them.

"Why don't you take Sharpay out? She deserves a reward for her flawless dancing, and all the money she's going to make me because of it." He winked at her, before reaching into his pocket to withdraw his wallet.

It was clear to Troy that Solomon was already initiating the plan he had discussed with him only just a little while ago, setting him up to take Sharpay out.

"Remember, Sharpay, Troy's going to be the one to look out for you for me. You're my treasure; I want to make sure you're well taken care of." As he spoke, Solomon brought his hand up, gently resting it on the side of her face.

Sharpay tried not to tremble at the as he stroked his thumb lightly across the edge of her cheek bone. Afterwards, he freed her of his touch, instead reaching into his fat leather wallet and pulling out two hundred dollar bills.

"Take her someplace nice." He instructed Troy, handing him the bills.

Troy nodded solemnly as he accepted the cash, his mind elsewhere. Sharpay was already in over her head, and he had to make sure she didn't fall for any of Solomon's tricks.

* * *

><p>"You know," Troy raised his gaze from the china bowl in front of him and smiled at Sharpay. "I don't really get why people think sushi is so great. I mean, okay, so it tastes good, but why do they put the fish on the outside? It's raw and it's squishy," He poked at the meal on his plate for added affect.<p>

Sharpay rolled her eyes and watched with affection as her high school crush dipped his hand rolled, ready to eat nigiri into the condiments provided. His hand was steady as he gripped his chopsticks, he certainly wasn't a first timer, and Sharpay found herself stamping down a long forgotten pang of jealousy. Of course he had been with other women.

The soy sauce clung like a film to the top of his lip and Sharpay noticed Troy's tongue as it moved from his mouth to swipe away the relish with precision. She felt her thighs clench beneath the table and a moan slipped from her lips as her body betrayed her. Sharpay stilled immediately.

Troy's smirk was wider now, though he said nothing. As Sharpay watched for a moment, one brow furrowed, Troy was seemingly none the wiser.

"It's called nigiri," Sharpay told him after she had composed herself. "And it's nice that there's an all you can eat sushi bar open at this time of the morning."

"Twenty four hour service," Troy echoed, tapping his chopsticks against his empty glass. "What more could you want?"

"Nothing, I suppose," Sharpay mumbled as she pushed her rice around her bowl.

"Sharpay," Troy sighed, suddenly serious for a moment. "I saw you talking to the boss earlier tonight. I know you think you can handle him, but I wish you would reconsider this job."

Sharpay's face was scarlet and her features were stern when she looked up at Troy.

"How dare you. How dare you tell me what to do. I'm good at this, finally, I fit in somewhere and you want me to give it all up? Does Gabriella want to be a stripper too? Is that what this is about, Troy?"

Before he could get a word in, Sharpay continued her barrage, her hand gestures creating an air of dramatic display as she finished her tirade.

"I make good money, and I'm popular. The men love me, the girls, they envy me. Are you jealous? Do you want Ethan all to yourself? Do you? What possible reason could you have for wanting to sabotage my life, Troy?"

Troy kept Sharpay's eyes as he sat up in his chair and straightened his back.

"This is serious, Sharpay. You do not want to get involved. I've seen things, things that you would not believe if I told you. He's a father you know, he has …" Troy thought about his words, about how he could best make an impact, scare Sharpay if that was the tactic he needed to succeed.

"Sharpay, those children are trophies. It's all about power, dominance, and I'm worried that you might end up a victim, a pawn in Solomon's sick games.

Sharpay swallowed thickly, but in the end, her resolve to win this argument saw her through.

"Lots of people have illegitimate children, Troy. That does not make them bad people; it just means they moved on."

Troy shook his head, his anger getting the best of him.

"No, Sharpay. These children, they weren't created equally, some of them weren't even conceived willingly. Do you understand what I mean? You have something he wants and right now, he won't stop until he gets it."

Sharpay had had enough. She threw her napkin down onto the table and stood to her feet, her hands placed firmly upon her hips, she leaned over across the space between them and snapped at Troy.

"I can handle myself. I've always been able to look after myself. I'm not about to sit around and make idle small talk with you because our boss told you that you have to be my baby sitter. Enough is enough, Troy." Sharpay grabbed her bag and threw it over her shoulder.

"I have these really great legs," She drew up her skirt to ensure that Troy had it all laid out before him. "These legs and I are going out to do some dancing. It's time for me to let my hair down. If you know what's good for me, you won't follow."

Sharpay headed towards the door, her nimble fingers raking the tresses of hair from her face and tossing it back over her shoulders as she went.

"Oh, Troy," Sharpay called over her shoulder. "You have the money, so that means that you get to pay the bill."

There had to be some way, Troy thought. There had to be some way to make her see what kind of mistake she was making. He knew that she did not always listen, he knew what Sharpay was like, he remembered his own experiences with her, bossy and forthright, Sharpay was right, even when she was wrong. But Troy cared now, as he had done then, and come hell or high water, not even Ethan Solomon was going to stop him.

* * *

><p>"Hi there," The cropped blonde man with the five o'clock shadow smiled at Sharpay as he approached the table where she stood against the far wall of the nightclub.<p>

It was well after midnight and into the early hours, the bar was smoky and Sharpay was straining to hear over the strung around their rum and coke. Shot glasses clinked and women laughed, men stood in groups and admired the view from afar.

"I'm Grant, what's your name?" The stranger asked as he watched Sharpay move her hips to the sweeping, fast beat of the music. The sound reverberated throughout her body and the brown eyes of the man before her turned to blue, the sandy crop having become a mop of dark.

"Sharpay," She managed to say around the straw in her mouth. "I'm Sharpay Bolton."

Grant smiled again, and the image shattered, and Sharpay was left with the bitter reality of longing. He gripped her hand, and Sharpay allowed it, because she couldn't have Troy, because he had never wanted her. She wanted desperately to kiss this man, this stranger, but he wasn't Troy, he was just a means to an end.

Sharpay stretched her legs and arched her back. She knew what she was doing, because she was used to the art of seduction. She took a step forward, pressing her chest into his, she brought his hips forward, and she could feel his erection, hard, like steel between her thighs. They stood so close that it was near painful, but his scent was all wrong and his hands were too clammy. She gripped his arm and pulled his face closer, her lips were poised, ready to strike. Her lipstick was worn, because it was hot and she was sweating. Her bare legs enticed him and with his hand upon her knee, so daringly close to the hem of her skirt, she leant forward and kissed him.

He thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever set eyes on.

She wished he was someone else.

Grant pulled back and watched her face, watched as her pupils dilated and a lone tear streaked the apple of her blushing cheek. He drew her into a silent embrace, and after a minute Sharpayapologized, took up her glass and sipped the liquor, relishing in the slow burn of her gullet.

He supported her weight as he accompanied her to the front of the building, there was a piece of paper in her hand and he usherd her into the waiting taxi. He handed the driver a fifty and told him to keep the change, waving Sharpay away and into the morn. He'd just let the girl of his dreams drive away, but it seemed that the girl of his dreams belonged to somebody else. Grant pushed his hands into his pockets and hoped to God the lucky bastard realized just how truly special Sharpay is. He turned on his heel with a smile on his face. The night was still young.

* * *

><p>Sharpay swayed on her feet, her head was pounding and she could hear the blood that surged through her veins. It was loud and noisy and her vision was blurry and she hoped that she'd pressed the right buzzer, that is, before she had realized that it was the only buzzer available.<p>

For the longest time it seemed as if there would be no answer. Sharpay tried again; and again, there was no answer. She sighed, long and hard, resting her head against the brick wall for a moment. She pulled her bag back over her arm and turned to face the street, wondering if she would go back to her apartment, or back to Grant, back to a life of make believe.

Sharpay was about to step off the landing when finally, a tired voice crackled over the intercom.

"Hello?"

"Troy … Troy,"Sharpay slurred, a giggle in her voice as she teetered on the edge of consciousness.

There was no response. Troy was at the door before Sharpay even had the chance to cry.

"Sharpay, what the hell are you doing here?" He asked, slightly taken back at the sight of her. Her hair was a mess, she reeked of alcohol, her skirt was turned sideways and she had lipstick smeared all over her face.

"I wanted to talk to you," She told him with a firm resolve.

"Sharpay, look at you, you're a mess. Come on, come inside."

Troy ushered Sharpay into the stairwell and checked his watch in the light by the door.

The numbers beamed up at him. Four fifteen am.

"Come on, Sharpay. Let's go."

Sharpay stood in her place for a moment, trying to gather the strength to apologize, to beg Troy to reconsider her; to give her a second chance and really try to see the good in her, despite how little she had showed it to him. She tried to open her mouth, but her jaw moved, inaudibly, and she snapped it shut again. Embarrassed, the tears came.

"Oh, Sharpay," Troy whispered, his thumb catching the tears that silently tracked their way down her face. He collected her in his arms, scooping her up, climbing the stairs one by one before he backed them both over the threshold and into the living room of the spacious apartment.

Sharpay pressed her face into Troy's shoulder as she sobbed. He rubbed his hand over her back, the small circles soothing her ache, and she hiccupped before daring to look up at Troy.

"I … I'm sorry. I had nowhere else to go. I …"

Sharpay was shocked when Troy pressed his mouth against hers, his tongue tracing the line of her lip, tasting the salt of her tears, the heat of her mouth as their lips were crushed together. He gripped the back of her head, his fingers threaded through her hair as he deepened the kiss, pressing his weight into her. Sharpay sighed. This was what dreams were made of.

Troy pulled back and smiled at Sharpay. Her lips were swollen from his assault, but she was so beautiful. He cupped her cheek and spoke with authority.

"I'm going to put some coffee on, and when you've sobered up a little, we're going to talk." Troy winked, "And then … Sharpay Evans, I am going to take you to bed."

* * *

><p>AN: Merry Christmas y'all! Or Happy Holidays depending on what you celebrate.

Sorry we took so long on this chapter! Hope everyone likes, and please, please review! :)

xoxo.


	5. Chapter 5

While the Manhattan skyline continued to slumber, the first rays of dawn began to seep through the thick panes of window glass that embellished the view from Troy's luxurious high rise apartment. The frosted panels gleamed as the brilliance of the morning spilled through the flimsy curtains and filled the room with a serenade as yesterday's frown disappeared.

Sharpay stirred. She stretched her legs and arched her back, moaning as the bare skin at the small of her back made contact with the smooth, silky sheets laid out across the surface of the mattress she found herself reclining upon. She blinked and then raised her hand to her temple and groaned at the thumping sensation, blood as it passed through her veins, magnified by the after affects of alcohol that made her want to curse.

"How's the head?" A voice from asked over the top of her right shoulder.

"Troy?"

Sharpay rolled onto her side to find Troy stretched out along the length of his bed. He wore sweat pants and a light cotton t-shirt and she noticed the way that the thin fabric stuck to his torso, moulded to the lines of his body. She appreciated the view; she always had.

Sharpay licked her lips and propped herself up on one elbow, her free hand toyed with the hem of the basketball shorts that she had been dressed in. Sharpay inhaled a shaky breath as her mind shook the morning fog and she realised that Troy had been her helping hand, he'd been the one she'd come to for help mere hours ago.

Her mouth was dry; Sharpay had no idea what to say to this man. She felt so embarrassed, her mind devoid of all sense of reason.

He sensed her apprehension and moved to trap her hand beneath his as he spoke. Shifting to his own side, he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face up to meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry," She murmured, trying to stop her cheeks from flaming, pretending not to be flustered in his presence.

"Hey. Sharpay. It's alright. Like I told you before, I'm right here, any time you need me. I shouldn't have pushed you, I'm really sorry. Will you forgive me?"

He smiled, and his eyes sparkled. He truly was a beautiful creature. She marvelled at the way that his lips curled, at the curves that caught the corner of his mouth and tipped up into a genuine smile. It kept her attention far longer than necessary.

She wanted to lean in a little, to throw her weight forward and press her lips to his. She wanted to taste him on her lips, to trace the roof of his mouth with her tongue. She wanted to fist her hands into his hair and never let go. But she couldn't, he wasn't interested in her, not like that. He'd always made that clear enough.

"Sharpay? Are you alright?" He asked her.

She shook her head and nodded and just as she went to move away, Troy moved his hand and caught her wrist.

"Sharpay ..."

Troy leant forward, nose to nose with Sharpay. He was in her face, his breath was warm on her cheek and she watched as his lips as he crushed his mouth to hers, his lips bruising hers as their mouths duelled together.

"Troy," Sharpay gasped as she pulled away from his mouth. She savoured the flavour, espresso, Italian style. One thing was for sure, the man had good taste. She closed her eyes for a moment and, vaguely, she remembered the early hours. He'd brushed the hair from her face and they'd sipped coffee for a while. That was the last thing she remembered before waking.

"I'm sorry, Sharpay. You're so beautiful, I couldn't help myself."

He continued to stroke her face, his thumb grazing the velvet skin of her flushed cheek. Her hair was mussed and her lips red and swollen, but in his eyes, he saw only the epitome of beauty.

She held his gaze while the pads of his fingers traced the smooth line of her clavicle, along her sternum and down into the valley of her breasts. He'd afforded her the decency of her bustier, but for some reason, Sharpay felt exposed, stripped bare and lain before him.

"Oh. God, Troy," She choked out beneath her breath.

One by one, painstakingly, he popped the tiny pearl buttons that held the meagre garment closed. He slipped each from its fastening and then marvelled when the two halves of the fabric fell open, revealing her unclothed form.

"So beautiful," He murmured as he leant over to take one of her rosy red buds into his mouth.

Sharpay moaned and drew her legs up as she pressed her body flush to his.

There had been nights when Sharpay had dreamed about this moment. Long, lonely nights where she was Mrs. Troy Bolton, when her fingers sought the purchase of satisfaction as she envisioned his face above hers, his weight settled comfortably over her. In her mind, he moved inside her and the world would shatter, along with Sharpay. Her mind focused on his smile, the thought that maybe somewhere, he was thinking of her too, something she'd had to believe.

Feeling bold, she slipped her hand beneath the hem of Troy's shirt and laid the palm of her hand flat against his abdomen. The lines and plains of muscle danced beneath her finger tips each time he took a breath. His body was hard and firm, as was his erection.

This was bliss, and Sharpay allowed a moment to bask in contentment before a pang of fear, so overwhelming, clawed at her heart, a notion so completely foreign that for a moment, Sharpay did not recognize herself.

"Troy," She tried to push him away. "Troy, please. Stop." She finally spoke up.

"Troy," She watched as his face clouded with confusion and anxiety, as he withdrew his hands and found his feet, standing back from the edge of the bed.

"Shit," He pushed his hand through his hair and took a deep breath, trying to control his arousal. "I am so sorry, Sharpay. You didn't say anything, I just assumed ..."

She realised the meaning in his words and shook her head in disgust.

"No. God, no. I mean ... I just ..." Sharpay sighed. "What are we doing? What are we doing, Troy?

I ..." She stuttered because the cessation of this sentence would leave her completely vulnerable. "I'm not Gabriella."

Troy furrowed his brow as she stated the very obvious, confused to have his high school girlfriend, from whom the pain of splitting from at age nineteen had long since been mended and forgotten, suddenly becoming a source of conflict again. It caught him off-guard for a moment, but his facial features softened with his understanding. She had known nothing of him since their senior year of high school, and was still struggling to move past the boy she had known, and recognize the changes in him now.

"No, Sharpay. You're not Gabriella."

Troy spoke calmly, his voice laced with the air of insistence.

"You not her, Sharpay, and I'm glad that you're not."

Sharpay opened her mouth to react, but Troy shook his head, effectively cutting her off. At the look of dismay that clouded her face, he kneeled by the side of the bed and spoke, this time, forcefully.

"We're not in high school anymore, Sharpay. I've grown up, I know what I want, what ..." He stumbled, trying in vain to figure out the vowels and consonants he needed to make sure she understood every word that sprung forth from his lips.

"You're beautiful. You've always been beautiful. I was a fool back then, young, naive, caught up in the dramas of youth, if it wasn't basketball it was something else. My father told me that I had to do better, that I could do better, that I should do better. I'm pretty sure I didn't do much better," He scoffed.

Sharpay was shocked. She watched his face, scrutinized his features carefully, and found that she came up short. There was not a hint of deceit, no cunning illusion under the guise of flattery. Troy meant each and every word, he was sincere, and she sought his assurance.

"You're serious?"

He nodded mutely, words having had their desired effect. He bit his bottom lip and willed her to believe him.

Sharpay sat forward, throwing her legs over the side of the mattress. She settled herself on the very edge of Troy's bed and smiled at him. Cautiously, he took a step forward and Sharpay's smile gave way as she dissolved into laughter, the shadows extinguished, the tears, and the anger, despite it all. The love, so long lain dormant, hidden within her heart, bubbled forth and smothered the pain. Reaching forward, Sharpay tugged at the hem of Troy's shirt and found herself giddy as she watched his arms rise up above his head, and he peeled away the offending item.

He moved forward again, Sharpay drawing him into the cradle of her thighs, and leaned over the length of her body, pushing her back onto the sheets and covering her like a veil. He hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband of the shorts that she wore, inching them down her slender legs before she was disrobed and bare before his gaze. He swallowed thickly, the heavy lump lodged in his throat causing his lungs to burn with the effort and he wheezed, exhaling raggedly, panting at the sight of such a beautiful woman.

He lowered his own sweats and kicked them away, un-phased by his carelessness, just wanting to touch her, to feel her skin beneath his fingers. Troy rolled them onto his side, taking Sharpay with him and placed his hand on her knee, caressing the silky skin on the inside of her thigh he drew her knee up and hooked her leg over his hip so that they were facing one another. He watched her face as he drew his knuckle across her sopping slit, parting her delicate folds with his fingers; he delved into her heat for the first time.

Sharpay clenched around his fingers and Troy found himself stifling a groan, a fierce cry, ripped from the base of his throat.

"Christ, Sharpay," He bit out. "You're so wet."

Sharpay rocked her hips and Troy began to move his fingers, working a rhythm, he crooked them in a come-hither motion, coaxing her orgasm and she seized his shoulder and rode out the waves of bliss that gripped her as she came.

Troy rubbed his thumb over the nub of her clit, trying to soothe her, trying to calm her body as she trembled from the force of overwhelming emotion. He pressed his lips to her temple and closed his eyes. This was where he needed to be.

His body tensed when he felt Sharpay wrap her fingers around his shaft. Her leg still draped across his hip made for easy access, and she wasted no time in bringing him closer to her sex, teasing him, rubbing the head of his length through her sticky lips. He cupped her face, asking the question, fearing the answer, his heart on his sleeve, suffering in silence.

Sharpay eased her hips forward and drew him into her warmth; she sunk down onto him and gasped as he continued to swell inside of her.

Though her eyes were closed tightly, a tear trickled slowly from the corner of her flitting lid. It coursed along her cheek, forging a path that marred her unblemished skin. Troy's arms unconsciously secured her to his chest, his hand sweeping down the length of her back and back up again to repeat the motion.

"This is perfect," He whispered. "You're so perfect, Sharpay.

Sharpay felt him thrust and hissed, biting her bottom lip and allowing herself to meet his movements with a sashay of her own hips.

"I've waited so long," She exhaled, almost inaudibly, but Troy caught the hint of doubt that laced her words and his thumb caught her tears as he pressed his face into the column of her neck, his tongue licking the length of the arch between her shoulder and her décolletage. His nostrils flared as he inhaled her scent and the hard muscles in his chest rippled as they grazed the underside of her breast.

Again he coaxed the ultimate from her, like a declaration of lust and fervour, Sharpay abandoned herself to the weakness that was Troy Bolton, and he held her as she broke in his arms, and he followed, offering up his potential for new life.

Their bodies' slick, Sharpay refused to part with him and he ushered her closer, Sharpay resting her head upon his shoulder, his arm, clutching her to his side possessively as they lay coupled together.

His fingers stroked the small of her back, enticing sleep, encouraging Sharpay to close her eyes and take her leave. But she stirred in his embrace, wanting nothing less than this night to last forever. Gripping his hand, their fingers laced, she spoke the words he had anticipated all along.

"Troy, I think we need to talk."

* * *

><p>"Why now?" She murmured, her eyes level with his toned chest, while she traced small shapes in it with her index finger.<p>

After declaring that they needed to talk, she had lay in silence for several minutes, Troy holding her in his arms, patiently waiting for her to speak.

"Hm?" He traced his hand along her spine, never having felt quite so peaceful as he did at that very moment, laying in bed with her.

"You clearly want me now." She clarified, "I haven't done much yet to show you that I'm reformed from the bitch you knew in high school. So why do you suddenly care?"

It was a tough question to ask, one that brought up the painful memories of past rejections, but one she had to get an answer to.

"Sharpay, what are the chances that the two of us would both end up in New York City, working for the same man in a Manhattan strip club, years later?" He responded, bowing his head down into her hair, in an effort to completely overwhelm his senses with only her, "It's like one in a million, and yet here we are. I feel like I've been delegated, by fate and the universe to protect you."

"So that's what's different? Fate brought us together, so you're willing to forget the past, and forgive me?" She slowly spelled out her name across his torso: _Sharpay Evans, _and after a moment to make sure he wasn't watching, added the dream appendage, _Bolton. _

"Sharpay, you're not the one who needs forgiveness for the past." He insisted, "I am. The truth is, I always knew your ice queen act was all a facade. What's worse, I knew that you wanted me to be the one to break you away from it. But that wouldn't have made me a hero in everyone else's eyes, and I was a selfish prick. We were just alike, you and I, both passing to the world as something we weren't. I knew you needed me, and I didn't help you when I could have. And now, I've been given a second chance. I didn't save you then, but I can now."

She sighed, suddenly pressing her face into his chest, feeling watery pressure forming behind her eyes, tears she thought had long since dried. She was transported back in time, as she struggled desperately to swallow down the pain of a sixteen year old girl with no real friends other than her own brother.

"You were the nicest guy I could find, and even you never gave me a chance." She sniffled, surprised to hear her own voice when she realized how young she sounded, and she reminded herself that she was twenty-six now; this was a matter of the past.

Troy stroked her hair tenderly and with his other hand, the one draped protectively across her, he rubbed small circles in her lower back, trying to soothe her.

"I should have done more for you Sharpay, and I didn't. I was a sell-out then, and I'm a sell-out now. How do you think I ended up working for a man like Solomon? But the fact that we've both ended up here, and met again, I think it must mean," He hesitated for a moment, afraid of coming on too strong again and scaring her away, but he willed himself to continue, "That you're meant for me. I can protect you and take care of you and I think I could love you because I think, deep down, I always kind of did."

She moved up on the bed, rustling the sheets, and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. He wiped away at the tears that fell silently from her amber eyes, and as he did so, she kissed him.

* * *

><p>"Troy."<p>

He turned to face his boss upon the utterance of his name. Ethan Solomon was inspecting himself in the small profile mirror he had hung in his spacious, lavishly decorated office. He regarded himself not so much with admiration, but with a curious precision, as if checking to see if anything had changed from the day before; if the coldness behind his eyes had given way to something else.

"Do you know what shar-pei means?" Evidently nothing was different, his eyes already glazed over with lust as he turned away from his reflection to look at Troy,"Sand skin. I saw a fight once between two shar-pei dogs. They breed them for that you know."

He reached on his desk for a box of Cubans, already open, and lit one before bringing the cigar to his lips absentmindedly.

"Strange name for such a beautiful creature." He exhaled, puffing heavy smoke close to his comrade's face, but Troy was immune to it at this point, "But on her, I like it. Sharpay."

Troy's nostrils flared, and he lowered his eyes to the floor upon hearing her name spoken, afraid otherwise Solomon would read in his eyes the actions that had taken place earlier that day in his bed.

"Are you looking out for her properly, like I instructed you do?" Solomon raised an eyebrow, misreading Troy's adverted gaze for a different guilt.

Troy looked back up at his boss, nodding heartily, "Oh, yes sir. I'm taking care of _all _of her needs."

Rotating again to study his mirror, Solomon never noticed the smirk on Troy's face.

* * *

><p>As she became more practiced at her dances, they were becoming smoother, more effortless. She was still more demure than many of the other girls. She rarely suspended herself on the pole she seduced with her movements, and when she did, it was never to spread her legs in such a vulgar pose. Her dances were obvious tributes to sex, as expected of any stripper, but in a way not so brazen, that it was possible even while she was adorned in such skimpy attire to imagine that she was innocent, perhaps even still virginal.<p>

All of the men seemed transfixed with her because of this, Troy and Solomon included. The two sat in their secured private section of the club, Troy trying his hardest to conceal his arousal, in case Solomon noticed.

His boss, however, was too enthralled with Sharpay himself to pay his employee any attention. His eyes never left her, and he licked his lips every so often, an action that nauseated Troy whenever he noticed it.

The sexual tension between Troy and Sharpay had been released in the early hours of the morning, but somehow that did not make it any less frustrating for him as he watched her now, grinding on the slender pole to the beat of the music. In fact, it was that much more taunting to know that his sexual desire for her was no longer fantasy, but something that could become reality again that night, as soon as her damn shift ended and he could take her home.

"Fuck." He cursed as she swung around her pole, giving it a few very suggestive strokes and caresses before falling back into her routine dance.

The blood pooling between his legs was becoming all too much for him, shamelessly tenting in his pants. He stood up from his chair, unable to continue this, so turned on while watching her with no hope for release.

"Excuse me." He muttered to his boss, who didn't even look up at him before waving him away dismissively.

As quickly as he could, Troy stumbled out of the room, away from the dancing girls, and the one in particular who he would never be able to seek sanctuary from in his own thoughts, from here on out, he was sure.

* * *

><p>xGuiltyxPleasure's AN: I hope everyone liked. I don't know if you've noticed, but we certainly have become more aware as our work is blending more and more as we continue the cowriting process. Betcha can't tell who wrote what!

MrsRoy's A/N: I really hope you liked this chapter! I drew my inspiration from Zashley. ;)

Please review! (And while you're at it, more reviews for ATG would be much appreciated.)

xoxo.


	6. Chapter 6

Sharpay checked her cell for messages before she stepped across the threshold of the employee exit and into the dark, musty chill of the early morning. She skimmed through the assortment of messages and stuffed her phone into her pocket before pulling a handful of notes from her purse with every intention of hailing a cab.

As she took a step forward and the heavy alloy door echoed behind her as it closed, Sharpay felt a hand grasp her arm, thick fingers wrapped around her skin and a strong grip pulled her back into the arms of a man. His breath was warm against her cheek as he pressed his nose into her hair and spoke.

"Do you have any," He panted heavily, trying to reign in his arousal. "Any idea … what you do to me … Sharpay?"

Sharpay felt her knees buckle and her body trembled as the voice grew labored, heavy with lust and the obvious notes of desire. Her heart hammered beneath her ribcage and she closed her eyes and inhaled a breath, urging her body not to betray her mind.

The man continued.

"I'm going to tell you what you do to me, Sharpay. I'm going to tell you right now, because shortly, when you're in my bed, when I rip that sad excuse for a flimsy costume from your luscious body, I'm going to do so much more.

Sharpay swallowed thickly and clenched her thighs, and then chastised herself for such an action. There were more important things at hand.

"You know what you're doing, don't you Sharpay? You know how to mess with men, how to draw them into your wanton little game. You know how to get into my head and fuck me up, don't you, Sharpay?"

A finger curled around the long, blond ringlet that veiled her face, pulling it free from her temple, the stranger pulled her flush against his body, his erection was hard against the small of her back and she whimpered pitifully, pushing back against him.

"Uh uh," He shushed, the lock of hair seemingly abandoned as he drew the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. "I'm going to tell you a little story, Sharpay, and it goes a little something like this …"

* * *

><p><em>Troy stumbled down the long, dark hall, trying to put as much space between himself and his boss as he possibly could. The blood was pooling at the apex of his thighs, his erection was painful, his shaft throbbing as he found himself coherent enough to be able to come to a stop at the door marked for private grooming. He rummaged in his pocket for the keychain that held the corresponding key and jimmied the lock, pushing through the wooden door and into the sanctity of his very own personal bathroom.<em>

_He leaned heavily upon the basin, fingers gripping the porcelain, his knuckles burning as he tried to calm the storm rising inside of his body._

_He looked up at his reflection in the mirror and raked a shaky hand through his dark head of hair, there was no other way, he had to do this, demeaning as it was, both to himself and to Sharpay. He simply could not contain the urge._

_His right hand moved to the clasp of his trousers and he popped the button, easing the zipper over the hard flesh, he hissed every time it made contact with the frigid metal._

_Without hesitation, Troy took himself into his hand, stroking the length of his shaft from base to tip; he did this several times before his fingers danced across his straining sex and he closed his eyes and gave himself over to visions of Sharpay, her smooth leg wrapped around the pole, her face beneath his as he hovered above her, as he moved within her, as she spoke his name and he found his release deep with her beautiful body._

_His teeth gnashed and his jaw clenched and his hand moved swiftly, repeating the same motion over and over as he continued to grip the hand basin in front of him. He was close, so God damn close, just the memory of her scent, of the musky aroma that made his nostrils flare was enough to push him over the edge and his body stiffened and jerked as he turned his head and bit down hard on his shirt collar, trying to stifle her name as it left his lips and he came._

_After his time spent with Sharpay, the early morning ecstasy as the hours ticked over into the heady bustle of midday, he was surprised to find that his body had reacted as completely as it had. But the swing of her hips, her movements, so brazen and deliberate, he'd walked right into her trap, and he had allowed her sweet seduction._

_Troy shook his head and went about tidying up the mess he had made. He would get her back. Solomon had admired her name, gushed about the fact that it was strangely perfect for the woman in question, but all over Sharpay, Troy had certain other things in mind._

* * *

><p>"So you see, Sharpay. We need to even the score a little. I think it's time you let me show you just how much you've missed since we left East High. I've learnt a lot, <em>a lot<em>, of new moves. Ever wonder why I was voted captain consecutive years? You're about to find out."

Sharpay turned in his arms and Troy relented, allowing her to drape her arms around him. Her fingers tickled the hair at the nape of his neck and he held her close, like a hungry man craved the saplings of dew that offered sustenance. His grip was possessive, lest any man try to take her away from him. They could try-he knew that they would- but he wasn't about to give her up easily. He vowed never to let Sharpay out of his sight as long as he was around.

"Come on then Captain," Sharpay purred, her fingers dancing the length of his sculpted body, the hard plains playing beneath the surface only enticing her more. "It's time to show me how a real Wild Cat does it."

* * *

><p>Despite her initial eagerness when he had approached her after work, she found herself somehow nervous once she was back in his bachelor's apartment, knowing all that was going to take place there, just as it had in the early hours of the morning. That they intended to sleep together again meant something different this time, at least, Sharpay though it very well might. Whereas a single night of passion could be merely a onetime occasion, to renew this intimacy, and in less than a day's time at that, would mean entering some sort of relationship, regardless if it was exclusive, and purely physical or not.<p>

It wasn't that she didn't want him. She always had, and if these emotions could be rekindled inside of her in such a short period of time upon meeting him again years later, then she supposed, on some level, she always would. Her reservations on being involved with Troy were past fears, the worry that she still would never be enough for him; that she wasn't the good hearted Disney princess that the girlfriend of Troy Bolton should be.

She had dealt with his rejection on multiple occasions in the past. She knew he was clearly not the same boy he had been at seventeen, but the doubt still ate away at her. Troy had said he felt fated to protect her. Protection was not necessarily a devotion. If she were no longer working at the King of Diamonds, would he have done his duty and be done with her? Perhaps a sexual relationship was all she could offer him; something to make her worth his time.

She was distracted with her musings and trepidations, while he was busy undressing her, dusting kisses along her neck, shoulders, and collar bone as he did so. Despite her internal conflicts, she was at least enough in the moment to know when the time had come to reduce him down to her equal stage of undress, which at the moment was only that of the tiny pieces of lingerie she wore on stage, and had covered up with a sweater and down coat before leaving work.

Her fingers reached gingerly for the buttons on his shirt, popping them open to reveal his toned upper body, a sight that would please any girl. He was an Adonis, that was certain. Zeus himself would have been jealous of his Greek-god looks, which made him bound to possess any woman he laid eyes upon, should he want her.

And then another thought entered her mind: just how many lovers had Troy Bolton had? His high school girlfriend was likely captain of the teen abstinence club, but who knew how many girls he had met since then, and how many of those he had brought back to this apartment. She was struggling with the idea, among her many other worries, somehow a jealous wreck as she pictured Troy with any other girl. Troy, sensing her distance, all but stilled all physical interaction between them.

"Sharpay?" He ran a thumb along her cheek, and peered into her eyes, knowing she was no longer in the moment with him.

"Yeah?" Her breath grew shallow, and she shook slightly from the intense eye contact.

"Is something wrong?" His concern was heartbreaking.

Of course Troy Bolton wouldn't use her for sexual favors as a means to earn his protection. He may have been with a hundred women since she'd known him, but even if that were so he would have held every one of them in his arms afterwards and showered them with affection. She knew he was a good guy, but even now, she struggled to imagine him finally feeling for her what she had felt for him years ago.

She was far too embarrassed to once again bring up insecurities still brewing inside of her since high school, and she muttered, "Nothing."

He stared back at her, searching her face for contradiction of her words.

She turned her head to the side, averting his gaze, but he caught her face gently in his hand, and pulled her inwards, until her lips met his own. His fingers danced along the edge of her jaw line, his other hand traveling down to caress her hip, pulling her even closer against him, embedding her in his groin where she could feel his prominent arousal. Despite all her inner turmoil, she still wanted him, she was immediately certain.

He had effectively silenced her thoughts, and he hoisted her up in his arms, carrying her over to his bed and dropping her down on top of the mattress. She licked her lips as he unbuttoned his jeans and abandoned them on the floor as he crawled on the bed to join her.

"Sharpay…" He tugged at the sheer fabric covering her chest, pulling it down to her stomach and then abandoning it, his hands finding greater interest in the soft flesh of her breasts, "I've been waiting all night to touch you."

He leaned his head in, latching to her nipple and suckling her, while she ran her fingers through his chestnut hair, willing her mind not to wander away from her again. As much as she tried, however, he spent too much time leaving gentle kisses along her body, and she was quickly caught up in her own stresses.

She was already growing antsy at his slow pace, even as they had just begun, and she grabbed him by his shoulders moments later, pushing him away from her somewhat forcibly. She needed something quick and easy, to distract her for the time being, and give him what he craved. Perhaps a fast fuck could clear her head, and knock the worries out of her head entirely.

She crawled to the foot of the bed, kneeling in front of him, and she wasted no time in shedding him from his boxer briefs, the final article of clothing that remained on him. His manhood sprung free, and she gave it a few slow strokes, licking her lips as she pictured it filling her. She could do without foreplay for now. She might allow him to sexually explore her later on, and do him the same favor, should she feel so compelled, but at the moment she was only looking for sex in its most primitive of forms.

His hands reached for the waistband of the lacy underwear covering the treasure hidden beneath, and she waited for him to remove what little fabric stood between them. He gingerly dipped his fingers inside the lingerie, feeling her, and stroking one finger lightly across her folds repeatedly, as her breath grew haggard, and she became all the more impatient. She took the liberty upon herself to rid herself of the lacy barricade preventing him from entering her.

She slid the panties down her legs herself, and reached for his hand where he continued to touch and caress her.

"You don't have to turn the dials Troy," She informed him, "You already have me."

He looked at her with confusion, caught off guard, and suddenly hesitant, afraid she didn't want this at all.

She sensed his sudden reluctance, and although it was not completely unwarranted, it had never been in her nature to deny Troy of anything. All the other men she would gladly let fall at her feet, hand her their hearts with no reward in sight, but not him. He wanted her body, and as certain as she felt at the moment that he wouldn't want whatever she could offer him emotionally, (was she really a lover, or just a fighter anyway,) she would indulge him with what she could now.

Grabbing his stiff erection, she tugged him forward slightly, guiding him towards her heat, "Fuck me…Please Troy, fuck me."

The words were out of her mouth, but before she could begin to mentally prepare herself for penetration, he had grabbed her by her hips, and embedded her to the hilt in one swift move. He was only trying to give her what she asked, suddenly sensing an emotional distance between them, and perceptive to her desire for sexual fulfillment over sensuality. He hadn't been merely going through the motions with her, but she seemed unaffected by his caresses regardless.

They both cried out as they joined together, the natural reaction of her body to clench him tightly inside of her, and she was unsure if she should be angry, or simply satisfied he had done as she commanded.

She chastised him for the somewhat invasive entrance, regardless if she had requested it seconds earlier, by clawing his chest, but beginning to rock her hips above him nonetheless, both of them grunting softly at the rapidly growing friction.

He grabbed her bottom and pulled her in, forcing them to fuse even closer together, a nearly impossible feat. The ever increasing pleasure tempted him to close his eyes and encourage her verbally, but his gaze was trapped watching her, rising and falling above him, her eyes clenched shut, her bottom lip trapped between her bottom teeth when she wasn't making pleas to God.

He couldn't tear his vision from her, and he lifted his torso from the bed, sitting up so that he could clutch her to him, and feel her heart beat hammering against his own.

"Sharpay…" He breathed out. Certainly she could sense that he cared; he was trying his best to show her, and hoped his efforts weren't all in vain.

She bounced in his lap, her moans of pleasure coming out in small bursts. He made an attempt to kiss her lips, but missed as she leaned her head into him, and he settled for feasting on her neck instead, though this was a consolation prize to him.

As she grew painfully close to her climax, she sunk her teeth into his shoulder, and he cried out in both anguish and pleasure as she left her mark, riding out her high. He was relieved to finally release his sexual frustration, giving it all to her as he cried out her name.

She collapsed seconds afterwards, her head falling into his chest, while she panted and struggled to gain back a steady breathing pace. He rubbed her back gently, waiting for her to return to him, nothing at the moment more appealing to him than having her curl up in his arms and fall asleep.

But mere moments later she lifted herself away from him, and stood up, mumbling something about needing to use the restroom, and left him sitting on his bed alone.

* * *

><p>She couldn't use his bathroom as a decoy for very long, and he was waiting outside for her when she returned.<p>

"Are you okay?" The words were out of his mouth immediately when her eyes met his.

"I'm…" She glanced down, realizing he had clothed himself again with his underwear, "Naked."

She shivered, though the temperature in his apartment was comfortable even with every inch of her skin exposed. She felt so on display, utterly vulnerable, and left for him to dispose of as he chose.

"Oh!" He rushed to offer one of his own t-shirts, helping her into it, before leading her to his sofa, and gently draping a blanket across her.

Sharpay hated the contrast in the two times they had now slept together, and was filled with self loathing for the state of paranoia she had brought upon herself. The early morning had been ideal, and she had given herself to him completely without a second thought. But now she was filled with so much doubt, unable to imagine a world where Troy Bolton's heart belonged to Sharpay Evans. It just was not feasible.

"Troy." She was moved enough by his attentiveness towards her, the way he observed her carefully, to at least speak to him, "You're definitely not looking for a long term relationship, right?"

The phrasing of her inquiry was more of a presumption than it was a question, but asking it in such a way allowed her to avoid sounding needy. Instead she came forth with the assumption that he would not consider her as his girlfriend, so that when he reiterated what she already believed to be true, she would not have any trouble feigning nonchalance.

Troy processed her question carefully. Sharpay had seemed to scare away easily since they had become reacquainted, and he feared he would come on too strong if he were to do anything other than comply with what he assumed was her way of verifying that things were not moving at a pace she could not handle.

He forced himself to reply with what he thought she was waiting to hear.

"Oh, no. I don't need anything too serious right now. I figure we can just keep it casual, if that's what you want."

The final appendage was his way of letting her know he would readily accept any conditions she presented him with, but it was lost to her.

She struggled to stifle her disappointment, and managed to nod, "Sure. We can just be… sex buddies?"

"I prefer the term 'lovers.'" Troy was quick to counteract with.

She stood from the sofa, walking back into his bedroom, where she began to pluck her clothes off of the floor, hurriedly putting them on.

"Are you leaving?" Troy appeared in the doorway, watching her rush about the room.

"Girlfriends stay the night Troy." She replied, "There's no use in me getting in your way. We've had our fun already; I'd just be a bother now."

"Sharpay, I'd really like for you to stay." He insisted, reaching for her wrist, and pulling her towards him.

He kissed her lips gently, his hand gripping the base of her neck, but when he drew his head back, he saw no change in her eyes.

"That's alright Troy, really." She drew back, and found her bag on his nightstand, "I'll see you tomorrow night, okay?"

"Sharpay, wait!" He caught her again as she was exiting into his living room, struggling to zip up her coat, which covered the length of her entire body, as style seen only in New York City, "Let me get your cab."

She tilted her chin up, shaking her head, "No Troy. I think I can take care of myself enough to cover my own cab. I can't start to depend on men who may not always be there, can I?"

And then she was rushing out of his door, leaving him alone and confused, crestfallen, and unsure why she seemed to flip her switch so easily for him, at one moment burning hot, and now just as quickly, icy and cold once again.

* * *

><p>Sharpay rushed down the stairs, bursting out into the cold night, trying her best to shove away her sadness and regret. Troy had never been hers to start with; she was not suffering any losses here.<p>

Her hand shot up in the air, and she waved it around frantically, knowing the longer she was standing on his sidewalk was all the more time he had to peek at her through his window upstairs, not to mention, the more potential for her to second guess herself, and bolt upstairs, back into his arms.

But Troy wasn't interested in holding her in his arms or wining and dining her. He would do it all with no complaints, she was certain, but only because he was a good guy. He would put any woman's needs ahead of his own because that was what his parents had taught him to do. She was not special to him.

In fact, she was becomingly increasingly certain that he was only trying to provide her a rescue, an escape from his own boss, for whom she thought his alarm might be a bit unwarranted. Perhaps Solomon was seeking to sleep with her, to make her his own, but that didn't mean she couldn't handle herself. She was a big girl and she could keep her head above water just on her own.

As a taxi pulled to the curb, giving a soft honk in appreciation of her looks, she imagined herself going into work the next night, and throwing Solomon a bone or two. She could only see benefit in upping the flirtation several notches. Solomon would provide for her financially, she thought, he had already given her a couple hundred the last time she had simply given him a coy smile and allowed his hand to rest on his shoulder.

If she left King of Diamonds now, then Troy might be out of her life as soon as he had entered. But if she teased him, dangled the boss in front of him, she would hold his attention. He would continue to tend to her in his efforts to convince her to stop what she was doing.

Opening the door and stepping into her cab, she was certain of her plan, and felt a certain sense of pride. She was taking matters into her own hands.

* * *

><p>AN: This story isn't just Troypay sex, promise. There's a whole lot of drama coming your way in a while.

We've definitely been hoping for more reviews than we're getting, but we like writing this story so we're pushing through. But please, make our day, and leave a review. :)

xoxo.


	7. Chapter 7

The night after Sharpay had fled from his apartment, Troy came to work, unsure if he was dreading or looking forward to seeing her again. He was entirely unsure of where they currently stood, as friends or as lovers. She had seemed inexplicably upset with him the night before, and he didn't know if she would be avoiding him because of it.

Upon his arrival, he first reported to Solomon's office, only to find the boss wasn't there. He supposed it was just as well, as Solomon was likely to prattle on about the very woman who was currently the source of Troy's distress.

Troy helped himself to Solomon's liquor cabinet, pouring himself a glass of scotch, and quickly tossing it down. He poured himself a second glass, and this time sat down with it, on the leather sofa opposite Solomon's mahogany desk.

After waiting for some time for his boss to arrive, Troy gave up, and left to search for Sharpay instead. He was heading in the direction of the lounge, and instead found both her and Solomon along the way.

Rounding a corner in the long, dark, private hallway that led to Solomon's office, he heard the distinct sound of Sharpay's laughter, and found her leaning back against an open doorway, smiling at Solomon, whose back was currently all that was visible to Troy.

Troy took a step back, using the corner as a buffer and hiding behind the wall, peeking around it to watch the two.

"I hope you're happy here Sharpay," Solomon was saying, while Sharpay watched him with her doe eyes, "It's very important to me that you are. If anything is not to your satisfaction, be sure to let me or Troy know. He is doing everything in his power to see you're well taken care of, isn't he?"

"Oh yes, he's been very sweet. But, uh," Sharpay stepped forward, so that she was slightly pressed against Solomon, all the while maintaining the same innocent smile, "It's just I sort of thought you might be the one to show me around sometime. I mean I know you're a very busy man…"

Solomon placed a hand on her left arm, hushing her, "Sharpay, I'm never too busy to spend time with a woman as beautiful as yourself. I was thinking the exact same thing. Let's say you and I make a day date tomorrow. I'll walk you around the city; you can experience it all over again through my point of view. What do you say?"

"Sounds perfect." Sharpay replied, grinning up at her boss with a mistakenly calm confidence that made Troy sick to his stomach.

"Wonderful." Solomon smirked, and reached up to cup her face in the palm of his hand.

Troy watched Sharpay tense as Solomon brushed a few wisps of fine blonde hair from her face, but she quickly relaxed her posture, and let her own hand rest on top of his, before gently pulling her face back. Troy rolled his eyes, wishing he could somehow bring to light for Sharpay her own naivety.

"Run along now, Angel." Solomon instructed her, "You've got to go stun all the gentlemen in my club tonight. I'm sure you will."

Sharpay ducked her head down, "Goodbye Mister Solomon."

"Ethan." He corrected her.

"Ethan." She repeated as she turned swiftly on her heels, dashing down the corridor.

Troy ducked back behind the wall before Solomon turned around, and shuffled backwards on his feet a few paces, before walking forward again, prepared to "run into" his boss.

"Troy!" Solomon bellowed as he rounded the corner, "There you are. Come with me. The two of us are going to have a round of drinks, to celebrate the goddess that's so effortlessly come into my life. I'm a lucky man Troy. A lucky, lucky man…"

* * *

><p>Troy came to find Sharpay after her shift, where she was dressing in the lounge. He watched her as she gathered her things, hanging back in the doorway, hesitant and unsure of what to say to her.<p>

"Oh hello Troy." Sharpay called out without looking up at him, "Did you not get enough of spying on me earlier this evening?"

"You saw me?" Troy choked out, stepping into the room towards her despite himself.

"It was hard not to, with your head poking around the corner like that." She answered curtly, "You'd make no secret agent, that's for sure. You're just lucky Solomon wasn't facing you, or he might have seen you too, and who knows how he would have reacted. He's very protective of me, you know."

Sharpay was busying herself with rolling her thigh-highs off her legs, and Troy scoffed at her, feeling his irritation levels rising, "He's very _possessive _of you. He just wants to see that nobody else is playing with his new favorite toy."

Sharpay slammed her stilettos down on the ground, jumping to her feet, "That's a terrible thing to say!"

"Yeah, well spend any more time with Solomon, and that's exactly how you're going to be treated," He informed her, "You're a sexual object to him. Nothing more."

Sharpay pointed an angry finger at him, "As far as I can tell, _you _are the one who objectifies women. Ethan has been nothing less than a gentleman since I met him, and has yet to try a single one of these tricks you say he's infamous for. Yet somehow I've already ended up in bed with you, twice, and I don't see you jumping to take me on any romantic dates."

She gathered her things in her arms, ignoring the fact that she remained half dressed, and attempted to escape the conversation by darting out of the room.

"Sharpay!" Troy hurried after her, "Wait! About that, I think we had sort of a miscommunication last night."

"It's okay, Troy. Don't worry about it." She answered coolly, refusing to turn around again and face him.

He reached forward, resting a hand on her shoulder, "Please, I'm sorry. Let me take you home."

"I'm fine." She responded, nevertheless turning around again to face him, "I can manage perfectly well on my own."

"Please Sharpay?" He pleaded, "I just want to see that you get home safely. I promise that's it. I won't try anything else."

Sharpay rolled her eyes, but reluctantly conceded, "I guess that will be all right."

Troy sighed in relief, "Great."

She glanced down at the handful of items in her hands, "Help me into my coat?"

"Sure." Troy answered, taking her bag from her, before doing as she asked.

He made a mental note to himself that this would be the last time he would try to verbally plead with her to stay away from Solomon. There had to be another way to show her the type of treachery his boss was capable of. Meanwhile, he had every intention of staying by her side at all times possible; to protect her from the potential dangers she was so blind to.

* * *

><p>Ethan sat at his desk and closed his eyes. One hand gripped the edge of the beveled surface in front of him, his knuckles turned white as the other hand strayed to the front of his suit pants. He toyed with the zipper before lowering it enough to be able to slip his hand into the fabric. He was hard and he rubbed his thumb across the mass that came with the thought of Sharpay, God, she made his blood boil. Behind his eyes she danced for him, her body bare, the sweat glistened as she rode him, her breasts in his face as he slobbered on her pert little nipples. He gripped his length through the opening in his boxers and his hand moved across his skin, like a trail of fire. Only one name sprang forth as he touched himself. He smirked, devilishly, licking his lips. He would have her soon.<p>

He tucked himself back into his trousers and adjusted his pants, trying to will the ache in his groin away. He placed both hands upon the desk, his breathing was ragged and he panted, trying to control himself. He had much to plan and next to no time. But he would do himself no good riled up. He needed to concentrate; he had to make this an experience she would never forget. He exhaled once more and picked up the receiver next his rolodex. He flipped through the cards trying to find the name he so desired. His plan was playing out just as he had hoped. He was going to blow Sharpay's mind. She would be his, he had no doubt.

The dial tone echoed in his ear and his fingers were careful as one by one, he dialed the digits necessary.

"Ciao, Maury. Ethan Solomon. How are you my friend? Sto molto bene. I need a favor, Maury and you're just the man who can help me."

* * *

><p>Friday morning found Sharpay awake at an early hour, truth be told, she had been too nervous to close her eyes, sleep had eluded her into the early hours and she caught fits of slumber as she could, when her mind was exhausted and her body weary.<p>

She stood at the door of her small built in closet and sighed, lamenting the choices she had for the day, she had to find the right outfit, she wanted something that screamed _look at me, _without the stigma attached to her job, she wanted to earn his respect outright, of her own volition.

As far as Sharpay was concerned, she was simply taking a walk through Central Park with Ethan Solomon, her boss, and clearly, her admirer as well. She had to be comfortable while sporting a tag with an up market brand. She agonized over her final decision. _Casual, _she reminded herself before she stepped across the threshold of the small, dimly lit space.

Tailored shorts, cuffed with a high waist sat neatly on her slim hips. A sleeveless nautical knit top covered her shoulders; the low cut neck plunged down between her breasts, accentuating her cleavage with the hope that Ethan would surely notice. Strappy heeled sandals and a designer tote in matching tones topped off the do, while around her neck; a vibrant pendant lay nestled amongst the valley of her breasts. Sharpay stepped back from the mirror and admired her handy work. She clipped her hair back, twisting it into a messy bun and then smiled. She was confident that she was desirable, she had no doubt that Ethan would be like putty between her nimble fingers.

Sharpay locked the door behind her as she left the building, descending the stairs carefully, one at a time. Thick, black sunglasses shaded her eyes from the glare of the harsh morning sunlight as she stepped out onto the pavement and hustled to flag down a cab on the busy street.

Unconsciously, she nibbled her thumb nail as the taxi drew close to its destination. Her heart hammered beneath her ribcage and Sharpay forced her pulse to calm in an instant. She was sure Ethan would be drawn to her nervous state; she did not want to play into his hands. Today was about her, about her strengths, she was going to allow him to see a different side of her. She would not allow him to underestimate her, not ever. Her toes tapped a rhythm that seemed to give her a distraction, something to focus on momentarily. She noticed, as she observed her feet, that the overpriced pedicure she'd had days before really had been worth the extra dollars she had shelled out for the occasion.

Sharpay had no real interest in Yankee Stadium, but that was where Ethan had asked her to meet him, Troy had been the messenger, she had frowned when the text made itself known with a trill of her cell. Troy was Ethan's keeper, not hers, not like she had asked it to be so. She'd rolled her eyes and sighed. She did not want Troy to make an appearance and ruin her day. She was going to enjoy her time with Ethan, Troy had made his intentions plain and Sharpay was damned if she was about to let Troy trample all over her heart. They had sex; they had touch and taste, which was all they really needed. Or so she continued to tell herself.

Sharpay examined her manicure again and tried to recall some of the useless information Troy had offered, as a means to give her some topic of conversation she could engage Solomon in regarding his interests. Home ballpark for the New York Yankees, check. Expensive, right. What else had he mentioned? She could not remember. The moment he'd mentioned the World Series, she became bored and her eyes were diverted to his chest, she bit her lip as she thought about his hands on her body, how good it felt to be suspended above him. She had lost all sense of reason in that moment and the statistics Troy was recalling fell by the wayside.

Sharpay dug into her resolve. She was not going to think about Troy. Not today.

He was waiting for her when she arrived. Sharpay paid her fare and ducked her head as she exited the yellow cab. Unsure of her surroundings, she looked around, she looked for Troy, relieved when she finally realized that he was not about, he was not with Ethan. He had likely been given a wad of cash and told to take a lazy day.

"Sharpay," Solomon beamed, stepping forward to take her hand and lead her from the edge of the curb. "Good morning my sweet, how are you on this fine day?"

"Good morning Mister Solomon … Ethan," She corrected herself at his questioning glare.

"Are you ready for a spin around the city, my beauty?"

Sharpay nodded intently, swallowing thickly as she wondered just what she was in for.

"Well then my dear," He stepped closer to Sharpay, his body pressed against her as he leaned forward to whisper into her ear. "Welcome to the Bronx, Sharpay. Welcome to my world."

Sharpay felt her body tremble. His words did not affect her the same way that Troy's words did. Her heart did not beat faster; the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. But she smiled up at him and squeezed his hand. She could do this.

* * *

><p>"You know, The Bronx was named after Jonas Bronck. He created the first settlement here," Solomon spoke as he strolled hand in hand with Sharpay.<p>

"What was it like growing up here?"Sharpay asked suddenly.

"My mother raised us," He explained, his voice devoid of emotion, "My brothers and my sister. She was harsh, but fair. My Grandparents were immigrants; they settled here with nothing more than a few dollars in their pockets. My family had to learn to survive, my father died when I was a young boy. We lived in a small row house not far from the river. It wasn't easy, but we had it better than some."

Sharpay cringed. She could not remember a time when she did not have it easier than the next person. She was proud of her father.

"Do you come back here often?" Sharpay asked with caution.

"No," Solomon replied tersely. "I have better things to do with my time."

She knew to let the subject lie.

"But I do know that Bennie's hotdog stand just around the corner makes the best dogs with onions and mustard. Foot long dogs, they're to die for."

Sharpay was hesitant, meat from a hawker on the corner did not really sound like her cup of tea. But she watched the smile that graced her boss' face and replied in kind. She had to keep her wits about her, taking a turn for the worst right now would not set her up properly, she could not risk the chance that she would end up on the wrong side of Ethan Solomon.

She watched Ethan interact with the old man on the corner of River Avenue. She wondered what he was like as a child, if he had been as ruthless as he was today. She liked to think he might have been an ordinary little boy with a truck in his hand and a skinned knee. Something told her that hadn't been the case at all.

Sharpay nibbled her bun, refined white flour was not really appropriate for her preferred dietary intake, but for the sake of the rest of her life, she was willing to go out on a limb.

Ethan looked over at Sharpay and chuckled, he extended his arm and his thumb caught the smear of mustard that sat upon her top lip like a moustache.

"Thanks," She flushed, clearly embarrassed. That was why she didn't do hotdogs.

"I have a confession to make, Sharpay. I did not bring you here just to show you where I grew up, though spending time with you have been an absolute joy, I am afraid I have lured you under false pretenses."

Sharpay's eyes grew wide and she took a step back from Ethan, watching his body as he held up a hand to placate her.

"Obviously that was a bad choice of words on my part. What I meant to say is that I would love for you to accompany me to dinner, this evening. It has been organized. I will of course treat you to something special, an afternoon at the spa perhaps? A new dress, or some dazzling shoes, your choice, Sharpay. What do you say? Make an old man happy?"

Solomon held up his cell phone and spoke again. "Just say the word and I will give Troy instructions."

The thought of Troy seeing her happy with another man certainly sparked her interest, to be able to flaunt herself in front of him, that was an opportunity too good to pass up.

"So you want me to go on a date with you?"

"My event planner, Maury. He has everything waiting. You just say the word, just tell me that you will join me this evening."

"Okay," Sharpay agreed. "I will go on a date with you Ethan."

Solomon smiled and pressed his finger to the dial menu. It took a moment, but he began to speak.

"Troy, I need you to come down to the club as soon as you can. I have a special delivery, she needs your assistance. I am counting on you Troy, this one is very special. I need your very capable hands."

* * *

><p>AN: Hope you enjoyed. We're getting more into the thick of the plot now, and I'm excited for Solomon's increasing involvement in the story.

MrsRoy and I disagreed over whether or not Sharpay could be convinced to eat a hot dog, even for Solomon. I thought she wouldn't, because I wouldn't, but she won out. ;)

Please, please review! And thank you for all who reviewed last chapter.

xoxo.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: It was brought to my attention that the chapter was not showing up on fanfiction. So I deleted it am posting again. Hopefully this time it works..

* * *

><p>Troy carefully examined the display in front of him, his eyes steely as he concentrated on the man and woman engaged in seemingly intimate conversation. He watched as Sharpay threw her head back and laughed at something Ethan had said. No doubt he was baiting her.<p>

He felt his hands clench, and then unclench. If would do him no good. Ethan Solomon was not one to be opposed; Troy knew the ins and outs of the man's twisted mind. Solomon had resources other men could only ever dream about.

He blanched as Ethan's hand found the small of her back and he ushered her along the sidewalk. In Troy's mind, the scenario was comical. The boroughs on New York, on a street corner, a hot dog stand, and Sharpay. He shook his head. If he knew her at all, he'd tell himself later that this was all an act on her part. After all, theatre was everything that Sharpay knew best.

He nudged his aviators up off his nose and they sat perched upon his head as he stepped out of the shadow of the mangy news stand. He cleared his throat and smiled.

"Troy, my man, you are just in time to take this lovely little lady off my hands for the day. I have a few errands to run," Solomon winked at Troy before looking back at Sharpay. "I want to make sure that tonight is an evening that my number one girl won't forget in a hurry."

"Right," Troy faked a smile, he was used to faking; _fake left, right__ … hustle._

"So, Aphrodite's, Boss?"

Solomon extended his arm, a long, thin digit curled around a lock of Sharpay's fringe and he watched the ringlet leap from the tip of his finger as he released it.

"You know me too well," He responded in earnest. "I want nothing but the best for my Sharpay."

"Actually," She turned to her right hand side where Troy was now slumped against the aging lamp post.

"Do you think we could stop and pick up some take out on the way?" Sharpay asked with a flick of her long locks and a wink in the direction of her overzealous lover.

"It won't take long, promise." She pouted at Troy, and her hand came to rest upon his arm, her puppy-dog eyes primed to perfection.

"Sure," He shrugged, seemingly unaffected by her little display. He'd known all along that hotdogs would not impress Sharpay, though his boss missed the sentiment; too busy undressing Sharpay with his clouded gaze, as he licked his lips.

"We'll be off then Boss," Troy announced, almost frightened by Solomon's lack of composure.

"Ethan?" Sharpay tried, her hand shifting from Troy's thick arm to that of the star gazing Romeo stuck in a freeze frame of fantasy.

"Oh, I am so sorry," He apologized profusely, taking up Sharpay's hand and pressing his lips to her knuckles in a show of affection and remorseful self reproach.

Solomon turned to Troy and withdrew his wallet. He extended his hand, a fistful of notes clutched tightly in his palm shuffled between the two and again, Troy gestured his acknowledgement with a simple nod.

"Take good care of her. You're the only man I trust, Bolton."

He leaned forward to place a simple kiss to the apple of Sharpay's peachy cheek and smiled, his thumb tracing the line of her face before he waved the two off for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>Troy tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove; his hands itched to touch her, to take back what was rightly his, to wipe away the fingerprints the devious Solomon had left as proof of his mark. But he couldn't. He knew Sharpay, he knew that she was enamored by the suave talking, high roller.<p>

Out the window, the giant billboards of Time Square passed them by and Sharpay sat fixed, her nose pressed faintly against the glass as she sipped her oj and worried about the state of her cuticles.

"What's it like?" She posed the question, unsure if Troy even knew what the spa was like.

He shifted his weight into the ball of his foot as it pressed the accelerator and switched lanes, indicating as he went, seemingly ignoring Sharpay's query in that moment.

"What's what like?" He asked, for clarification.

"The Spa, Troy," She rolled her eyes. "What's the spa like?"

Troy sighed.

"It's the best in West Manhattan. They offer a whole bunch of services, take your pick, they've probably got it."

Sharpay frowned. Surely he knew more than that.

"But they're reputable, right?"

"It's not Lava Springs, Sharpay. We're not in Albuquerque. This is not high school," He spat.

She could see his shoulders shake with fury as he tried to calm himself from such an outburst. His heart ached, while his head was confused, conflicted, a spontaneous riot of unbridled lust and regret.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, moving his right hand to hover over her thigh, before pulling it back. He couldn't do that anymore. They were casual. It wasn't his place to comfort her.

Sharpay swallowed the lump in her throat and forced back the tears that were threatening to spill through her lids.

"No. It's okay. I know Ethan has saddled you with me. I don't like living in your pocket anymore than you do mine."

Her reply hit him hard, his gut crumpled in and he cringed with the force of the blow. He was nursing his wounded pride as he kept his eyes focused on the traffic moving around them, his eyes set dead ahead. He missed the look of pure agony that passed her features. On the inside, the two of them were screaming, their little white lies eating away at their souls, pleas falling on deaf ears.

The silence was deafening, each keeping to themselves for the remainder of the trip through town. Sharpay dared not hold her breath for fear that he was listening.

Central Park passed by like a blur and it wasn't until Troy withdrew the keys from the ignition that Sharpay actually acknowledged the fact that the car was now completely stationary. She assumed that this was their destination.

The foyer was overwhelming. Sharpay found herself surrounded by great slabs of marble and gildings of gold that shone upon her melancholy with their cheer. Hand carved etchings lined the round columns that fringed the corridor, like a temple, symbols that told a story, a sacred cloister, tucked away.

"Welcome to Aphrodite's."

The mellow voice wafted through the room and lifted Sharpay from her musings.

"Hello," Sharpay smiled politely and greeted the woman wrapped in a pale green toga.

"It's nice to see you again, Troy."

Sharpay watched as the other woman extended her hand and Troy caught it between nimble fingers. Bending forward he brought the digits towards his lips and placed a kiss against her knuckles.

"And you too, Goddess. May I introduce to you, the lovely Sharpay."

He could not help but blush, the expression of rapture not unnoticed by Goddess Aphrodite's roving gaze.

"My, she certainly is a vision, Troy."

Sharpay felt her own cheeks tinge as she stepped forward to extend her own hand. Troy turned to her.

"This is Goddess Aphrodite. She will take care of you. Whatever you feel like, it's on the boss."

"I believe you will enjoy your stay, Sharpay. We have salt from Hungary, mud from Italy, an array of organic oils from as far as France. We will guide you to inner worlds of perfection here. May I suggest a package to start you off? A luxurious facial, European manicure and pedicure, aromatherapy body scrub followed by an active chocolate body wrap. We will finish it off with a full fifty minute body massage. How does that sound?"

"That sounds absolutely divine," Sharpay beamed, her wide smile extending from ear to ear.

"Oh. And how about waxing?" Sharpay asked her hostess. "I'll need a full Brazilian bikini, of course."

"That's probably my cue to leave," Troy added, the image of Sharpay beneath him stifled in the back of his mind as yet again, he found himself flushed.

"Find a hideaway and take some time out, Troy," Aphrodite instructed. "Relax. I will take good care of Sharpay for you my boy."

"I'll be back soon, okay?"

He turned to Sharpay, the question plain to her ears, but his eyes held all the clues.

"I'm alright. I'll be fine."

"You have my number?" He asked the Goddess one last time before he left.

"We have your details. Now go, be off with you."

Troy gave Sharpay one last wave over his shoulder before he disappeared down the hall and she was left with the Goddess. She was ready for business.

"We have a soft spot for young Troy," The older woman spoke gently to Sharpay and smiled genuinely. "He is precious, you are very fortunate to share his company. Now, if you would be so kind as to follow me, Sharpay."

Sharpay nodded before following the Goddess into the light where Troy had not so long ago disappeared.

Sharpay found herself scoffing down champagne and chocolate. Truffles of all shapes and sized littered the platter that sat by her elbow as she admired her freshly buffed French manicure.

"It's time for your massage now, Miss Sharpay," The young employee bowed as a sign of respect.

"Oh, thank you Ana. This is so fancy. I feel like a princess. Mother would adore it here."

"We pride ourselves on our work. Between us we have more than thirty years experience and medical training. Our treatments are customized by the Goddess herself," Ana explained as the two made their way to the massage retreat further down the hall.

"Here we are, Miss Sharpay. I hope you enjoy the remainder of your stay with here."

"Thank you Ana," Sharpay bowed in kind. "Thank you for everything."

* * *

><p>"Welcome, Sharpay. Please, make yourself comfortable," Goddess Aphrodite offered.<p>

"Thank you, Goddess," Sharpay stammered hesitantly. "Ah, Aphrodite's not actually your real name is it?" She asked as an afterthought.

The Goddess chuckled and held out a robe for Sharpay to take.

"No, it's not. My name is just plain Angela. Not as alluring as Aphrodite I'm afraid. Here, take this," She offered. "You'll be more comfortable in it. Strip down to your underwear, no brassiere."

Sharpay was more than happy to oblige.

Re-entering the room, she found the lights were low and a melody carried across the space where she stood. The musky aroma greeted her nostrils and she inhaled deeply. Her mind filled with images of Troy and she felt a burning deep within her thighs, a yearning that pooled at the apex of her core.

"Up on the table, just relax. I promised to take care of you," The Goddess Aphrodite spoke."

"I have no complaints," Sharpay giggled.

Troy was nervous as he stood on the other side of the door that contained Sharpay. This was an intimate moment, up until now; everything had been casual, friends with benefits. No commitment, nothing to hold onto. He could walk away whenever he felt the need to hit the ground running.

His fingers trembled as he held the door handle. This moment would be priceless. Even if she never knew, he would carry it with him, forever, for always.

He crossed the threshold and stood still. She was there, bared to his eyes. Her back, long and lean stretched out before him, her legs, and the crest of her thighs that gave way to her very core.

His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, trying to contain his arousal.

He moved across the floor swiftly, not making a sound, lest she realize he was there. He tapped the Goddess on the shoulder and motioned with his hands. She turned on her heel and was surprised to see Troy standing in front of her, his eyes pleading. She gave a curt nod and spoke quickly.

"I am just going to get some lotion. Stay where you are, I shan't be a moment."

Troy moved closer to the table, inching his way to Sharpay. He rubbed his hands together and took up the bottle that Angela offered. He uncapped the lid and this time motioned for the Goddess to speak.

"Spearmint and orange. I imagine it smells like the colors of the rainbow."

Troy was hesitant at first. His thumb grazed the arch between her shoulder and neck and he followed the line down into the hollow of the small of her back and back up to her shoulder blade. Sharpay shuddered as he repeated the motion, becoming more confident with each stroke.

Sharpay bit her lip trying to stifle the cry that left her lip as a muffled moan and Troy smirked.

"How are you doing, Sharpay?"

After a moment, Sharpay answered.

"Mmm. Good. Really good."

That was good enough for Troy. It was all he needed to hear.

* * *

><p>Primed and prepped, Sharpay stood in the doorway fiddling with her earrings as she opened the door to greet Troy, her chauffer for the evening.<p>

"So," She wagered the question and did a twirl. "How do I look?"

Troy shrugged his shoulders and seemed unaffected by her low cut dress and shiny new Louboutin heels.

"You clean up alright. Ready to go?"

He hoped that his jealousy was not showing. He felt out of place, uneasy, like the green eyed monster. Her enthusiasm did not help. He wondered if that was for show, or if her nerves had the better of her.

Sharpay took a step forward and faltered.

"Sharpay?" He questioned her, determined to talk her out of it if he could.

"I'm fine. It's just the shoe."

She watched his face, watched as his fingers moved the fringe from her eyes and tucked it neatly behind her ear.

He smiled at her. He could have been the same boy she knew in school, the one she had wallowed after for years.

"You don't have to go if you don't really want to. I mean, I can just tell Ethan that you're not feeling well."

Sharpay shot him a faux smile.

"It's okay. Really, I'm fine. I'm actually looking forward to it. We should probably go, we're meeting him at the club."

* * *

><p>The bar seemed smoky as Troy guided her through the crowd, his hand on the small of her back. It was early, but she was already straining to hear him over the crowd strung around the rum and coke.<p>

"Nervous?"

Sharpay simply shook her head.

The patrons were noisy, their shot glasses clinking as the women laughed with bravado and the men boasted about their latest conquests.

He tucked her into a booth in the corner as the two of them waited; Solomon did not stick to a schedule, and tonight was bound to be no different.

A film of sweat formed on Sharpay's brow and trickled neatly down her temple. It may have been the heat. Troy continued to tell himself that it was her nerves. Their conversation was nothing profound, idle chit chat, mostly drowned out by the beat of the music. She found herself watching as the women swung their hips in time with the sweeping fast beat.

Gripping his hand, she wouldn't allow herself to let go.

His eyes remained focused on Sharpay, even through the flicker lights. Her head lolled to his shoulder as his free arm pulled her flush against him. He felt the need to remind himself to stay calm. He had to tell himself again and again, that she was no longer his, no matter how much he'd like to have kissed her.

'_Just friends' _hurt him more than he'd ever care to admit.

Sharpay found herself needing to move, to burn up all of her nervous energy, so she decided to dance. She left him feeling completely dejected.

Lost amongst the throngs of people, Troy took it upon himself to find Sharpay.

His legs stretched, his back arched, he came across her, shaking her hips. With her back pressed against his front, she leaned into his touch, willingly.

His feet moved of their own accord as he pulled her along, their fingers laced as they found freedom in the form of an abandoned hideaway, dark and secluded.

That was when he kissed her, his hand upon her knee, Sharpay responded in kind. Lips upon lips as the two tongues dueled. His fingers sought the warmth between her thighs, boundaries between friends blurred and poignant touches were desperately exchanged.

Sharpay was still coherent enough to be able to find her way up into Troy's lap. He was surprised to find that she had dressed herself without any underwear, as his knuckles continued to stroke the delicate folds of her precious mound, his arousal becoming almost too much after she cupped him through the confines of his rough denim jeans.

The zipper tugged down, Sharpay took him in hand. No longer could she wait, so she sheathed herself, sinking down quickly.

She exhaled deeply as his hand skimmed the bare flesh of her back. His thumb grazed the silken skin as the two of them rocked back and forth.

"Oh God." Her eyes clenched shut tightly, Sharpay couldn't help but gasp.

"What? What is it? Did I hurt you?" He asked, his voice ridden with a sincere concern.

He listened as she gasped again before her head dropped to his shoulder and she took him deeper, contracting around him with the force of their movements.

"It was you. At the spa … It was you, your hands. I knew all along. I knew it was you."

Troy chuckled before he bucked his hips; they went back and forth and worked up a rhythm. She sunk her teeth into the flesh of his shoulder, straight through the fabric of his expensive t-shirt.

"Fuck," He clenched his teeth and groaned as she writhed against him, his back pressed hard against the wall. He couldn't hold on, he pushed her to join him and they tumbled together, coming hard, one against the other, her name on the tip of his tongue.

He tried not to kiss her again, but found her wrapped up in his embrace was too much to bear.

She wanted it too.

The movement of his body distracted her long enough that he could slip away, a trace of him upon her that made him proud.

At least they had tonight.

* * *

><p>Sharpay had slipped away to the bathroom, to freshen herself up before Solomon's arrival, sure that any evidence of another's man's touch would send him into a jealous rage. Her heart was still hammering against her chest as she reapplied a pearly lip gloss, her head spinning, overwhelmed with thoughts of Troy and the memory of his touch.<p>

She grasped the marble counter, gripping the surface so tightly her knuckles turned white, vowing to herself not to exit the room until she had regained her composure. She intended to face Ethan with a collected composure and had no intentions of letting the night's most recent events be any excuse for allowing her nerves to get the best of her.

She ran some cool water from the faucet, placing her hands beneath it and wishing she could douse some on her face, although she wouldn't dare muss her flawless makeup. She swallowed away thoughts of Troy with a firm resolve. Tonight she had a date with Ethan Solomon, a prominent and wealthy man who was clearly head over heels for her. She had to put herself first, and think about what was best for her long term. Ethan had so much to offer and as long as she remained on his pedestal, Troy would always be around to look after her.

She shook the name Troy from her head one last time, reminding herself that it would do no good to dwell on the feelings she had suppressed. Troy wanted her, but not in the ways she needed to be wanted. The sex was fantastic, but was there really anything else there? Today he had not responded to her wistful looks, her soft gentle touches that were silent pleas for affection. He had handled her with an intentionally cool detachment, and later a raging lust. Somewhere in between, romantic feelings must have been lost.

She knew she was lying to herself even as she did so, but eventually she decided she had done the best job she could in convincing herself that her last moments with Troy had been nothing more than a heat of the moment sexual encounter, and she exited the bathroom, wandering down into the main floor of the club again.

She craned her neck, searching for Solomon among the throngs of people, wondering if she was expected to call him when she had arrived back at the club.

"Sharpay?"

She felt a hand make contact with the small of her back, as her boss leaned in to greet her with a kiss on the cheek.

"Where's Troy?" He enquired, his eyes darting out into the crowd accusingly, "Did he leave you here by yourself?"

"Um… No…" Sharpay stuttered, heat already rising in her cheeks, worried Solomon would sense her guilt at the mention of his name, "He was here with me. But I went to the restroom to freshen up and I came back here to look for you before thinking about finding him. I was just so excited for our date."

Solomon grinned, "I'm glad to hear you were so eager to meet up with me. I must admit I've been thinking about you all evening."

Sharpay bit her bottom lip, looking at him with a kittenish smile and hoping she looked as alluring as she thought she had when she'd last admired herself in the mirror.

"I'll send Troy a quick text and let him know I'll be leaving with you now. So he doesn't worry." Solomon held up his finger, requesting that she be patient with him for a moment while he did so.

For some reason she suddenly felt very ill at ease to realize that Troy would not see her off on her date with Ethan. She had expected him to and, although she knew it made little difference, it left her feeling hollow and vulnerable, her stomach fluttering with anxiety.

* * *

><p>"Did you enjoy yourself at the spa, Sharpay?" Solomon asked her, now that the two were seated at the well reputed restaurant, candlelight dancing on both of their faces, intended to create a romantic atmosphere.<p>

"Oh, very much." She nodded, "I feel absolutely renewed. Thank you!"

"You do appear to be glowing. All though it might be unfair to credit that to the spa. You're always radiating beauty." He winked at her and she was unable to stop the faint giggle that fell from her lips, so easily affected by flattery as she always had been.

Their waiter appeared at their table at that moment, a slender man in his twenties, who smiled kindly at Sharpay, admiring her beauty in a noninvasive manner.

"Good evening." He greeted the couple, "My name is Anthony and I'll be serving you tonight. Would you like to start out with a little wine?"

"A bottle of the finest you have available." Solomon replied, his eyes still transfixed on Sharpay, "Whatever it costs."

Solomon continued to admire Sharpay after the waiter had left to fetch them their wine. He struggled to restrict his gaze to mere fondness, to ignore the churning in his loins that began every time he set eyes on her and to keep his wits about him, as his unquenchable lust threatened to take over for all of his senses. Her deep and inviting cleavage, showcased by the low cut dress she wore, made this challenge all the more difficult.

"Sharpay?" He asked her, knowing it was best that he kept conversation moving so that he wouldn't allow himself to get lost in any indecent thoughts for too long, "Do you know who Aphrodite was?"

"Do you mean the spa owner?" She asked.

Solomon chuckled, "No, no. I mean the Goddess, whom the spa was named for."

"Oh." Sharpay nodded, "Right, from Greek mythology."

"She was the Goddess of love, beauty, and," He glanced down at her showcased breasts, swallowing thickly as he did so, "Sexual rapture."

A fierce blush rose on her face, and she turned her head away slightly, hoping Solomon would not notice.

"It seems fitting that I would send you there, don't you think so?" He leaned forward across the table, gently touching Sharpay's face so that she would turn and look at him again, "You embody all of those qualities so well. You are my Goddess."

She forced herself to smile at Ethan, although the intensity of the comment overwhelmed her a bit.

"I wouldn't go nearly that far." She replied, showing him some uncharacteristic humility.

"Nonsense Sharpay." The flickering candle light illuminated his face with an eerie effect as he spoke, "You are all of those things. You're everything I could ever want in a woman. I'm already certain you're going to be very special to me."

* * *

><p>It was later that night, after dinner; Sharpay and Solomon had finished their fine dining experience and had both sipped on their fair share of fine wine, and were now walking around Central Park together. Solomon had treated Sharpay to gelato, despite her protests and she reminded herself as she ate it that it was okay to have a day of indulgence every so often and her figure wouldn't suffer from this single occasion.<p>

Solomon watched with intensity as her tongue worked its way around the frozen treat as she licked it off of her small cone. He felt a surge of desire, imagining he had command of her and her hot, lithe tongue was working itself on his body. He tried to lull the rush of blood that came to a point between his thighs, not wanting to lose his composure now and frighten her.

A bit of the gelato had melted, and started to drip down the cone and onto her hand. With one flick of the tongue, she licked the dessert off of her hand, running her tongue around the cone to make sure she'd taken care of any more potential dripping dangers. Solomon watched her, stunned, and was unable to stifle himself before a soft groan left his lips.

Sharpay's eyes widened, gaping at the noise he made, and then her face grew flush as she realized how suggestive what she had just done had been.

"Forgive me Sharpay." He begged, wrapping an arm around the small of her waist, "I sometimes forget myself around you and it's entirely inappropriate. You're just so beautiful."

She flicked her hair over her shoulder with an air of confidence and tried her best to appear nonchalant, "Oh that's alright. After all, I would hope to know you were attracted to me."

"More attracted than I have ever been to a woman," He answered her, earning a coy smile of gratitude from her in return.

He led her over to a park bench, gesturing for her to sit, then following in suit.

"I'll text Troy now so that he can come fetch you. I imagine if he's at home right now he'll still be a good twenty minutes. That will give us enough time to say our proper goodbyes, won't it?"

Sharpay nodded, a heave of relief leaving her body as she realized that Solomon intended to leave her tonight safe in the hands of Troy Bolton. The time had not yet come for him to lure her back to his place and she would soon be asleep in her own apartment. Perhaps even Troy's, if he permitted her to stay the night.

Her thoughts quickly trailed off from there as she became consumed with thoughts of her occasional lover and just what he might do to her if she did find herself in his bed tonight rather than her own. As her eyes gazed off into space, he forgot the quickly melting dessert in her hands, and was met by a chilling surprise when a drop found its way down the cone and plopping onto her chest, trickling into the depths of her cleavage.

She let out a gasp of surprise and Solomon licked his lips, staring down at her chest with a hunger for more than just gelato.

His hand reached forward before Sharpay could take care of the small accident herself, announcing his intrusion with, "Please, allow me."

One nimble finger delved down into the crevice between her breasts, reveling at the feeling of them as his finger trailed upwards, collecting the droplets as he went. As he brought his finger up again, he reluctantly pulled away, but Sharpay watched as he inserted the digit into his mouth, sucking all traces of her ice cream off.

His eyes came in contact with her own, which had grown dark with desire as she had thought of Troy and their liaisons together, but Solomon mistook her signs arousal as being meant for him and leaned in, cupping her face in his hands. She swallowed as he licked his lips and they came into contact with her own. She obliged him with the kiss, closing her eyes and imagining it was a strong armed, blue eyed young male who was gathering her in his arms and kissing her with fervor. Only then, was she able to return the kiss with the same passion.

* * *

><p>Troy had been aimlessly wandering around for hours in central Manhattan, coming up with excuses for himself as to why he should remain there, shopping for useless items, or sightseeing for tourist attractions he had seen a hundred times before, but knowing the real reason he would not leave was because of her. He had to remain close to where she was currently off on her date with another man, in case she needed him, so that he could immediately rush to her and provide her with the necessary protection.<p>

No such requests had been made of him, but as soon as he had received his boss' text about coming to retrieve Sharpay along with their location in the park, he had immediately been on his way, eager to have her safely away from Ethan as soon as possible and back in the safety of her own bedroom.

He had told himself that it made sense to walk with a purpose as he had a reason for doing so, but he realized just how desperate he was to see her again as he found himself breaking into a full sprint before he could think better of it.

He rounded a large group of trees to find Sharpay and Solomon seated on a park bench a distance away, Solomon trailing a thin digit around Sharpay's plunging cleavage. Troy's blood boiled with anger, and he had to fight hard to suppress his urge to rush forward and stop the whole thing, reminding himself that he and Sharpay's relationship had to be private if he intended to keep his job, and that she had chosen to be on this date.

The night air seemed stick in his windpipe as he watched Solomon lean in for a kiss and he held the breath as he waited for Sharpay's reaction. At first she seemed timid and unresponsive, but he felt his heart lurch as she began to return this kiss with interest. He could hardly stand it and in his mind he screamed at her for being such a whore, for showing him so much passion and desire earlier, only to turn around and so willingly allow another man to shove his tongue in her mouth. He immediately felt guilty for the accusations he had made towards her internally, as he tried his best at maintaining a steady heart rate and temper.

He was managing to do so successfully, until Solomon reached his large hands up and began to paw at Sharpay's breasts through the fabric of her dress. Troy could stand it no longer and he rushed towards them, not caring if he upset Ethan by interrupting his grope fest.

"Oh!" He called out in feign surprise as he came upon them, "Did I get here too soon?"

Solomon reluctantly pulled away from Sharpay, his brow furrowing with irritation, "How did you get here so fast?"

"I was already on this part of town, so when you texted me for pick up, I came straight away." Troy answered, attempting to swallow, finding that his mouth had run entirely dry watching the two.

Sharpay lowered her eyes guiltily to the grown, feeling as though she had been caught cheating, although Troy had known all along about her date.

"Oh…" Solomon freed Sharpay from his greedy embrace, deciding it was best to let her go now anyway. He couldn't have her quite yet and it was best not to work himself into such a frenzy.

"Darling, it was an absolute privilege to have you be my date tonight." He informed Sharpay, taking her hand in his, and kissing it briefly, "I hope you'll join me again on another very soon."

"Of course I will." Sharpay replied, hurriedly standing on her feet, wanting to be in Troy's company again, "I had a wonderful time tonight Ethan."

Ethan stood as well, placing one last chaste kiss on her lips, "Good night Angel. Troy, make sure she gets home safely. Walk her to her door. Tuck her in even, I want to make sure she gets plenty of rest after such a busy day," He winked.

Troy's nostrils flared, but he maintained his resolve, "Yes sir. I'll see to it that nothing happens to her."

"Good night Ethan!" Sharpay called out into the night, as Troy escorted her down the path.

She was smart and kept a foot between them as they walked, knowing Solomon's gaze would be following her until she was out of sight. But as soon as she had rounded the corner, she grabbed tightly on to Troy's arm, leaning into his body and grinning up at him.

Troy didn't shove her off, but the jealousy remained eating away at his insides, logical or not.

"Let's get you home." He muttered.

She swayed slightly in her stilettos when he took a sudden bound forward without warning and she hiccupped softly as she struggled to keep up with him. She had, after all, had four glasses of wine, surely far more than she should have, but Solomon had continued to pour as she drank.

"Actually…" She smiled up at Troy, "I had a thought that maybe you might like to take me back to your place instead?"

Troy glanced down at her while she gazed up at him with hopefulness and he rolled his eyes, "I don't know. You seemed pretty happy to be kissing Solomon a minute ago. Maybe I should just take you home and you should save yourself for him from now on."

"Troy," She pressed her body into his, a physical plea for his attention, "I was thinking of you the entire time. Imagining that he was you kissing me. I mean, how would he have reacted if I had pulled away when he kissed me. If all you say about him is true, wouldn't he be angry?"

"I suppose." Troy grumbled, finally allowing his eyes to trail down and meet hers.

"You believe me don't you Troy? You know I was thinking of you. How could I not be after this evening?" She left a kiss on his shoulders, where her lips were level and Troy's stony expression finally cracked, giving way to a smile. It was hard not to when he was around her.

"Sure Sharpay." He kissed her soft lips once gently, "I know."

He held his hand out, hailing a taxi for the two of them; one that would take them both up to 29th, to spend the rest of the night together in his apartment.

* * *

><p>xGuiltyxPleasure's AN: Hope y'all liked! Please, please review. I'm really enjoying each chapter more than the last as we get into the plot and I hope you enjoyed a longer chapter!

MrsRoy's A/N: I sincerely hope you all enjoy this next chapter, we put a lot of time and effort into it, and would love more feedback for this longer chapter. Let us know what you think. It really does help the chapters speak for themselves.

xoxo.


	9. Chapter 9

Her heart still ached when she reflected on the past; when she thought of all she had put herself through to get him, only to come out a loser in the end anyhow. Gabriella Montez had been a dark beauty, a soft spoken, mild tempered sweetheart who had captured Troy's heart in high school and, subsequently, led him to trample on Sharpay's. Her seventeenth year found her many a Saturday night home alone, teary eyed, gazing in the mirror and convincing herself that while she thought she had seen beauty in her reflection all of these years, there must have been something there her self-absorbency had never allowed her to discover. She must not have been as attractive as she had always assumed, or at least, what beauty she did possess could evidentially never compare to that of Gabriella's.

She had contemplated changing herself, both inside and out. Brushing away the golden strands that framed her face, hair that had not been naturally blonde since she was six years old, she had wondered if Troy perhaps preferred brunettes in general; if he would be more inclined to take to her if she mimicked Gabriella's raven colored locks. When her report cards were delivered, her eyes would linger over the C she earned in math, wondering if she should swallow her own dislike for the subject, and try her hardest for an A. Was Troy impressed with Gabriella because she earned such high marks in the tricky subjects? Sharpay was a hard worker too, but in the world of theater, something Gabriella had swept in and taken from her as well when she came into Albuquerque. Gabriella didn't need to confine herself to one area of interest; she was seemingly perfect at everything. Sharpay was clever too. She wished Troy might have noticed, but quick wit and the ability to form the most agile of schemes were more subtle forms of intelligence than Gabriella leading the school's scholastic team to the national championships.

When she observed Troy's girlfriend, the way she smiled at everyone, handing out compliments like free candy, and hardly ever growing irritated with other students, she would loathe the girl she had created for herself to be. Troy clearly didn't find her tantrums and fits cute, he wasn't looking to dote to a girl so high maintenance. If she had known what he wanted all along she could have tried hard at becoming that. She would have been the school's sweetheart rather than the drama queen. But while she would often toy with the idea of changing her identity, molding herself to someone more fit for Troy, she knew she never could. She would have been far too embarrassed for everyone to witness the obvious changes in her, to see her groveling for the one boy who seemed to be the exception to everyone of her rules. Troy hadn't wanted her for who she naturally was and if she were to pretend to be someone else she was sure he would only laugh at her.

Sharpay's eyes were clenched as she thought back on the past, not by any means the first time she had done so since Troy had walked back into her life. Her forehead was pressed against his shoulder, breathing in the faint scents of his men's deodorant and natural musk every time she inhaled. Whenever she reminisced about high school, a clutching fear would grab her, an inner voice that assured her that Troy could never really love her. He could escort her around the city as his boss had instructed, he could see to it that she was kept safe and well taken care of, as his gentleman tendencies would make sure of, and he could use her, a lowly stripper, as an outlet for his sexual desires. Underneath his taintless exterior, she knew their lay a boy who was capable of falling deaf to her emotional needs, in order to fuel his own wants anyway.

She hadn't realized at first as her eyes began to fill with moisture and when a small sob shook her insides, it startled herself as much as it did him.

"Sharpay?" His voice was ridden with concern as he placed a thumb and forefinger on her chin, tilting her teary face up for examination.

"What's the matter?" He gripped her by her shoulders, frightened as he grasped her naked body, guilt crashing over him like a tidal wave, feeling to blame as he witnessed her clear unhappiness a second time after she had slept with him.

She shook her head, feeling foolish and unstable and utterly humiliated, furious at her emotions for betraying her so suddenly.

"Please?" He ran a soothing hand over the small of her back, "All I want to do is make you feel better."

This expression of caring broke her and her lips sprung free, releasing the first thing she could think to utter, "You used me!"

"What?" Troy felt a thick bile rising in the back of his throat, dread filling him to capacity, "When, Sharpay? How? I swear I didn't mean to. I care about you so much."

"Not now." She shook her head, her cheeks flushed scarlet and burning with her embarrassment, "In high school. You came to my country club, used me as leverage to get a head step on your future, and then tossed me aside in the end like you were angry with me for ever offering you the opportunities I did in the first place. You sent me mixed signals all throughout high school, kept me coming back on a faint shred of hope, and when I finally realized you didn't care for me and had never been attracted to me, it was crushing."

Troy winced, knowing now the guilt he felt wasn't entirely unwarranted, "Sharpay, I'm so sorry. I never even fully realized… But if you think I wasn't attracted to you you're wrong. I always was. You were beautiful Sharpay, a school boy's fantasy, and there was never a time when I wasn't aware of that. You drove me wild that summer! There were certain things that I never externalized… I had a girlfriend at the time."

"And I could never compare to her," She ducked her head down, so that he wouldn't witness the vulnerability so blatantly written across her facial features, "I have a hard time even now imagining you would ever want a girl like me when you could have someone like Gabriella."

"Sharpay," He wrapped his arms around her fully, pulling her to him in what he hoped was a reassuring embrace, "Gabriella doesn't exist anymore, okay? Not for me and not for you. She was my high school girlfriend. We made it three months into our first year of college before we called things off. For all I know she's still 3,000 miles away in California, maybe married, probably successful, who knows. You have to let her go. I'm sure you sometimes have a hard time separating me from the boy you knew in high school because to be honest, there are times when I still remember you as a teenage girl as well, but I'm not eighteen years old anymore."

"It's not just about Gabriella though." Sharpay insisted, "It's about all the girls Gabriella represents, girls I can never be. I know I'm not the type of girl you would usually want…"

"You don't know a damn thing about the type of girl I want." The brutality with which he delivered his words shook her, but he placed a comforting hand on her soft cheek as a gesture of gentility to show her that was not how he meant them.

"Look, Sharpay, it's not as if I didn't want you back then. But I was expected to date a girl like Gabriella and so I did." He trailed his thumbs under her eyelids, catching her tears, "I sure as hell know I want you now."

She exhaled, releasing a quivering breath of air, and leaned into him, waiting for her embarrassment to subside, "I'm sorry for bringing up high school. I know it's stupid and immature. It's just being with you, all of these old feelings are coming back and I don't know why."

"Shh." Troy hushed her, stroking her hair tenderly, placing one firm kiss on her temple, "I understand. You never got to say those things to me in high school. They needed to be said to give you closure. I'm just glad that you're talking to me this time instead of running away, really."

He ran his hand along her bare side, his fingers dancing along her hip bone, his other hand tangling itself into her hair, and she was hypnotized by the repeating movements of his calloused hands, feeling as though she could have wept again at his efforts to comfort her, so obvious was his concern.

"Troy, I…" She tilted her head back to gaze up at him, and he traced a finger along her bottom lip, his thumb grazing her cheek gently, his eyes watching her carefully, making sure she was alright.

"You're so beautiful, Sharpay. Please don't think I'm using you." His voice was hoarse, strained by his emotions, the affections he wished to express but wasn't sure it was quite yet the appropriate time to do so, "Just try to understand why it's so hard for me to keep my hands off of you."

She shifted, straddling herself fully in his lap now, surprised when she felt his member straining against her abdomen as she did so.

"Oh!" She gasped slightly and then Troy kissed her, his tongue prodding gently into her mouth, longing to taste her.

His lips explored her, sucking gently along the column of her neck, grinning when she cried out softly, and focusing on that tender spot, wanting to mark her as his own, and at the moment not worrying about what his boss might do were he to discover any suspicious marks on her neck.

He inched his way down, kissing along her prominent collar bone, sighing from both his contentment and his arousal, his lips trailing to the valley of her breasts. She smelled of amber and vanilla and faintly of fine wine. Her skin was soft and smooth like a baby peach and one of her long hanging locks would occasionally tickle his neck as he trailed his tongue along the fullness of her breasts. He could hardly fathom how perfect she was, or the things she did to him.

His tongue darted along one of her rosy buds, his hand finding its way to her desire, tracing a finger gently along her dripping folds. This would be the third time in that night he had her, or perhaps the first time of that morning. Either way, he felt no loss in his appetite for her. He still ached to touch her everywhere, to feel every inch of their skin make contact, and to have her in his arms, gasping for breath, when he had at last seen to it that she was spent.

She let out a low moan as his thumb found its way to her pleasure mound, and he sunk one finger inside of her simultaneously. While he left affectionate kisses across her breasts his hand was working her, gently coaxing her to relief, to release of all of the stress and pent up emotions she had bottled inside. The first time she reached her climax quickly, shaking and wrapping her arms around his neck to steady herself.

"Oh Troy…" She placed a kiss on the shell of his ear, causing a shiver to run down his spine, "There was a time I could have only dreamed about being in your arms, in your bed, like this."

Troy listened to her as she spoke and ran his fingers along her abdomen, before pulling her in tightly against him, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "Sharpay, there were nights when I dreamt of you too."

He delved into her neck, nibbling her gently, ravishing her, and making a meal of her. He pushed his index finger up into her heat again, intending to give her a second go before he finally broke and had to take her.

"Troy," She tugged at his wrist, gently pulling his hand away, "No. I want all of you, right now."

He had no reason to deny her request, and he watched her as her nimble hands reached for his member, groaning as her fingers wrapped around him, giving him a few tantalizingly slow strokes. A sheer line of sweat formed at his brow as he watched her guiding him towards her, rubbing him against her wetness several times as a few incoherent noises fell from her lips, her eyelids fluttering as she lost herself in her own arousal.

"Sharpay." His voice came out in a dry whisper, eager for her to bite the bullet and take him already.

She prodded him gently into her entrance and then he had the liberty to take matters into his own hands, bucking his hips up so that he was inside of her, surrounded by her slick velvet walls, eager for her to move. She placed one hand on each of his shoulders as she lifted herself up and then sank back into him, repeating the motion, and unable to stop the involuntary cries that came as he bucked back with her in time.

His turquoise eyes stared straight into her chocolate orbs, his stare was intense and it burned her.

"Sharpay…" He repeated her name again, running his eyes down across her breathtaking form, groaning as the delicious friction grew more unbearable with every stroke.

She started to pant and he noticed that her hand had traveled between her legs, working herself, and he knew she was close. He grabbed her by the back of her head and pulled her in, kissing her fiercely, pulling her closer still as he felt her body spasm, and at last allowed himself to let go, filling her with his passion.

She buried her head in his neck afterwards, trying to subtly catch her breath, Troy stroking her hair, as he lay back fully on the bed again, taking her with him, so that her body was sprawled out on top of his.

He waited for her to speak, only to find several minutes later that she had already fallen asleep in his arms, leaving him with all the time in the world to gaze at her and daydream about the future.

* * *

><p>The halls of King of Diamonds, where Sharpay now reined queen, seemed darker and gloomier than usual, familiar though they were, as she navigated through the passageways to meet her lover.<p>

She reached his small private office and knocked three times so he would know it was her. The door was opened to her in an instant and he pulled her into his arms, kissing her fervently.

She kicked the door closed behind her, before she tumbled with him, as he sat back on the edge of his desk, pulling her into his lap. She moaned as he touched her, his hands roaming her body in an exploration he had experienced countless times in the past. She was another man's woman now, but her heart still felt like it belonged to him; perhaps it always had, since she had first met him, when she was nothing more than a child. The memories seemed so hazy now and it was hard to recall a time when this was not her life.

"I've missed you." Troy kissed her once in the valley of her breasts, before reaching for her left hand.

The diamond shone too brightly in the light, glaring at him, mocking him. He turned it around so the stone faced her palm and nothing but a thin platinum band remained visible.

"I'd buy you diamonds you know." He breathed, a jealous plea she had grown tired of hearing.

Had she made the wrong choice? She could not stop herself from running to him, fleeing from her husband at any chance to be with the man that made her feel whole again.

She kissed his lips again without responding, running a hand along his cheek, not realizing it when the rock of her ring scratched his face. Her hands roamed under his soft t-shirt, feeling his hard abs, her heart pounding with eagerness when she felt him tugging at the zipper of her skimpy designer number.

"Sharpay!"

The bellow caused both to jump in terror. They both struggled to stand on their feet and separate, but the door to Troy's office swung open all too soon, revealing the two still locked in an embrace far too intimate for a pair of business colleagues, Sharpay's dress half unzipped, her hand up Troy's shirt.

Solomon's face was a deep shade of red, his expression furious and menacing, and the light that shone behind his eyes was hardly recognizable as human.

"You whore!" He accused her, a swipe of his palm knocking her to the ground, away from her discovered lover, "I'd heard the rumors but I didn't want to believe it. After all I've done for you Sharpay!"

"I trusted you!" He grabbed Troy by his shirt collar, "I gave you everything and you repay me by sleeping with my wife?"

Troy shoved Solomon away from him, "How dare you hit her!"

Solomon reached into his coat as Sharpay sat up again, holding her bruised cheek, her eyes widening in terror as she realized what he was reaching for.

Troy stumbled, taking a step towards his boss, and then froze, as Solomon aimed the gun at him.

"Sharpay?" Solomon questioned, "I swear to God, you better answer me honestly. Is Troy the only man you've betrayed me with?"

She trembled, shaking in horror, but she managed to squeak, "Yes."

Solomon cocked his gun, fingering the trigger, "I would have let you have any other woman, but this one's going to be the death of you."

"No!" Sharpay called out, desperate to move in front of Troy, block him so Solomon wouldn't shoot, and save him.

But for some reason she did not understand, she found herself entirely paralyzed, incapable of movement no matter how hard she willed herself to stand back on her feet.

"Please." Troy pleaded, "Don't do this. I'm so sorry for going behind your back."

"If you valued your life so much, you should have considered that long before you ever touched her." Solomon gestured towards Sharpay, sprawled on the ground.

Sharpay watched her husband and her lover carefully, finally summoning the ability to move her bones again. She attempted to leap for Troy, but found she was only able to crawl towards him, confused as to why, and cursing herself as she did.

She saw the bullet pierce Troy's heart before she heard the gun sound off. Solomon was an excellent shot. He only needed one bullet, and he never gave any warning before pulling the trigger.

Sharpay tried to scream, finding the noise catching in her throat and coming out at a pitch barely above a whisper. She tried again and again, but to no prevail.

"Troy!" She sobbed, when she had exhausted herself with her fruitless efforts, and knew for certain no help would ever come in time to save him.

"You can expect any other lovers you take on to have the same fate." Solomon informed her, reaching for her, grabbing her by the arm, and roughly yanking her to her feet, "I won't allow anyone to take you from me."

He pulled her into him, while she tried to fight the urge to vomit, her heart trapped in a state of desperation. That was her Troy on the ground, gasping for his last breaths, and he would never hold her in his arms again.

"You don't belong in anyone's bed but mine." Solomon declared.

He released her from his painful grip, "Cover that bruise and change your dress. I expect you to join me for dinner in an hour."

He turned to let her mourn over her horrific loss and she feel to her knees, staring into Troy's lifeless eyes, sobbing pitifully over the tragic outcome that had arisen from her lies and sneaking around.

"Sharpay," Solomon was beside her again, rubbing a hand over her back.

She turned, trying to comprehend why he was suddenly comforting her.

"Sharpay," He spoke her name again, kissing her forehead softly, and gently shaking her by her shoulders, "Sharpay what's the matter?"

She gaped at him through her bewilderment. He clearly knew seconds ago why she was so upset.

"Shh, baby." He pulled her into him as her weeping continued, "Wake up Sharpay."

Sharpay jumped within the confines of Troy's embrace and then finally her eyes sprung open, red and teary and staring up at him in terror and confusion.

"Troy?" She was relieved to see him and then reality flooded back to her and she remembered she was in Troy's bed, safe in his apartment with him. Even still, the dream was fresh in her mind, and she burst into a second fit of tears, still upset over it, and overwhelmed with emotions upon seeing Troy alive in front of her.

"What's wrong?" He wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her close against his chest, where she could feel his heart beating rapidly, so troubled he was at finding her in such hysterics.

She gasped for air, relieved once oxygen had fully filled her lungs again, and she sobbed into his shoulder, seeking comfort from him.

"Nothing." She managed to speak, "I just had a really bad dream is all."

Troy kissed the top of her head, rubbing soothing circles in her lower back, and giving her bottom one firm squeeze, "It's okay. I'm here for you. I won't let anything happen to you."

* * *

><p>If Sharpay knew that Troy had been watching, she'd probably have blushed, and then turned around and pointed her finger at him, told him to get lost, that he was a pervert, and that if he wanted some, he only had to ask.<p>

He liked the moments of solitude, where he could look at her and imagine his wife and his two point five kids. He would watch her move about in the kitchen, his basketball jersey riding up over her thighs when she stood up on tiptoes to reach the top cupboard for the really good coffee. His cock ached for her all over again, and he could relive the frame-by frame freeze shot of last night's play that lasted well into the early hours and then some.

Beneath him, above him, around him, she was pure bliss.

_Great. _He thought as he felt himself twitch. All he had to do was look at her and he was ready to go. Not that it was difficult, Sharpay was gorgeous, he'd be mad not to want her, not to crave her the way that he had since she'd come of age. She was untouchable, always just out of reach. He'd gone for the soft option, not that it had worked in the long run.

"You want a latte, Troy?" She called from the espresso machine.

_Yes, he wanted a latte. He wanted her to have a latte too and after she'd skimmed the foam from the top and it clung to her top lip he'd also like to run his tongue along the line of her mouth, cup her derriere and bend her over the kitchen bench so that he could fuck her right where they stood. Yes. He wanted lattte._

"Troy?" Sharpay called again.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure. I'll have coffee."

He threw his shorts on and stretched his tired muscles as he stood from the edge of the bed. He could hear her humming in the kitchen and he smiled. How long had he denied himself this? He knew that peer pressure had a lot to do with it, sometimes, if he really wanted to find an excuse, he would blame his father. Nothing was good enough for his little boy, Troy Bolton. Troy was certain that Sharpay was more than good enough for Daddy's little boy.

He was a man for crying out loud, sure, somebody else wash his clothes and pressed them, but he made the money that paid the dry-cleaner. His job paid enough; he supposed one might be able to say it was stable, depending on how you looked at it.

Creeping up behind her, his arm snuck around Sharpay's waist and he pulled her into the line of his chest, chiseled plains rugged against the line of her back. Sharpay yelped and then eased herself back into his embrace.

"Troy, you just about half scared me," She feigned disapproval.

"I'm in the kitchen with a barefoot beauty. Man's gotta eat."

Sharpay snorted in disgust and turned in his arms.

"If you're expecting this barefoot beauty to be pregnant, then you can think again," She replied, thinking of the old saying, the only thing a woman should be is pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen.

It was Troy's turn to snort.

"Seriously, Sharpay. You're not really the maternal type."

Sharpay furrowed her brow. Was he insinuating that she would make a lousy mother? Her own mother had never really been a great source of inspiration, but Sharpay was sure that at the very least, she had potential.

"Would I really be that bad?" She asked, her brows drawn together as she waited for his reply.

Troy placed his lips against her temple and then reached over her shoulder for his mug of coffee. He lifted the brew to his nose and inhaled before he took a sip and sighed.

"Sharpay, I know you loved Boi, but he was a dog, Honey. It's different when they're human, especially when they're your own. You can't give them back."

"I could quite confidently take care of a child. I'm not an idiot you know, Troy."

Troy held his free hand up in defense as Sharpay stomped her foot and placed her hands upon her hips.

"I'm sure you can," He agreed, not willing to take the chance to disagree. She was Sharpay, as far as he knew the nanny practically raised her and her father bought her love wherever he could. He'd throw cash at anything just to make his little Sharpay happy. She had him eating out of the palm of her hand by the time she was ten.

He still remembered that stupid Barbie car she brought to show and tell once. He accidentally broke the side mirror when his basketball rebounded off the hoop and sailed right past her face and into her lap. Sharpay was mortified. She demanded that Troy pay the damages, lest she tell her father.

He'd simply pouted and shrugged and then walked away. But he'd never quite looked at her the same way again. She wasn't a mouse, she had gumption, she had passion, everything he's possessed and more. If she'd been a boy, his father would have swapped them, no dice.

"But you think I'd make a lousy mother?" Her voice came again.

"No, Sharpay. Okay? I don't think you'd make a lousy mother, but we," He pointed between them, "Are just casual and this," He pointed again," Is not a relationship. Besides, you're not pregnant, so what the hell is the big deal?"

"What if I was?"

"What?" The bitter aftertaste of Arabica lingered in the back of his throat as he swallowed. "What the hell kind of question is that? Are you?"

"No," She squeaked indignantly, and her voice raised an octave. "But what if it happened?"

"Then we'd deal with it," He lied. Nothing pleased him more than the thought of Sharpay round with his child, but the reality was, Sharpay was not that kind of girl. She wasn't stupid enough to slip up like that.

"You mean get rid of it? Have a … a … Well, you know what I'm talking about."

The very thought terrified Sharpay.

"Yes, Sharpay. As you so eloquently phrased it, we'd get rid of it. Problem solved."

Troy drained the rest of his cup and swirled the sugar granules that had collected at the bottom.

"If you don't hurry up and get a move on, we're going to be late for work. I'm going to take a shower. I'll leave you some hot water."

"Actually, I think I'd better run home for a bit. I left some stuff there, I really need it for work."

"Okay, suit yourself," Troy tried to keep his tone casual, reminding himself that it was only meant to be that way between them. If she knew how much it broke his heart to hear her say that, he'd probably never live it down.

As soon as the front door closed he kicked off his shorts and headed for a long, hot, shower.

* * *

><p>Troy checked his watch, smoothed down his vest and slid the crystal tumbler back over the surface of the marble bar. He knew that the scotch was against the rules, he was on the clock, Solomon's rules, but he also knew: a- that Sharpay was on the roster tonight and b – Solomon would overlook such reckless behavior. The fact that the two were connected is what made him want to hit the bottle.<p>

Tonight was when the money rolled in and the checks were handed out. Thirteen minutes past ten, Troy knew there was no point in being tardy, he'd been through it a thousand times and was bound to encounter a thousand more women in fish-net stockings and barely there panties mounting tables and grabbing at his boss for more. Solomon always liked to keep them begging. For the sake of a lousy hundred dollar note, he just shook his head.

He'd been thinking more and more about his argument with Sharpay that afternoon. What _would _he do it she ever became pregnant? Probably bundle her up and move them both to a condo somewhere sunny.

He chuckled under his breath. Sharpay might like to try Los Angeles on for size.

He tapped on Solomon's door and fiddled with his earpiece while he waited. When Solomon beckoned him in, he wasn't prepared for the reception that greeted him.

Sharpay sat on the edge of Ethan's desk, one knee was crossed over the other and his hand was on her thigh, old, gangly fingers stroking her flesh where only hours earlier she had been glistening with the release of both herself and Troy. He swallowed thickly.

"Troy, come, come. Sit down my friend, take a load off. Would you like a cigar?"

Troy watched his boss retrieve the mahogany box etched with fine markings and insignia's, nothing but Italy's hand rolled finest for him.

"No thanks," Troy waved him off nonchalantly. He pointed to his watch. "On the clock"

"You're a good boy. Isn't he a good boy, Sharpay? Troy, I'm going to give you a bonus this week. How about five thousand dollars? How does that sound? Not enough? How about six? Six thousand, that's my final offer. Oh, who am I kidding, how about ten?"

"Whatever you think, Boss."

Sharpay rolled her eyes and yawned.

"Speaking of clock," Troy began to speak, "Sharpay is first on the bill this evening. She really should be getting ready."

Solomon sighed.

"Yes, you're right."

Ethan withdrew a key from his breast pocket and jimmied open the top draw of his desk. He placed his check book on the old wooden desk and clicked his ballpoint pen so that the nib was visible. He scrawled his signature and tore the slip from the perforated fibres holding it together. Holding it up between his thumb and forefinger, he waved it at Sharpay.

"This, my Goddess, is for you."

Troy tried not to throw up but the bile that rose in his throat was choking him.

"What does my good little girl do when she wants her treat?"

Sharpay shimmied to the corner of her desk, her feet on either side of Solomon's hips as she slipped down into his lap. Her arms came up around his neck and she hesitated before her lips captured his. She ground herself in his lap, emulating her nightly procession and blanched when she felt his hand up the flimsy piece of satin she called a skirt.

Troy balled his hands into fists, he was seething, and white hot rage flowed through his veins like slivers of glass, working their way right to his heart.

Sharpay broke the kiss first. She leaned her head against his shoulder and panted for a moment, her eyes closed as she focused on Troy's face and hands, his breath on her neck … every … single … thrust … Her heart was thundering beneath her ribcage, and the smirk could not be wiped from Solomon's face. He was decidedly proud of his actions.

He leaned forward and tucked the check into her bra cup, his hand molding to the shape of her bare breast.

Troy cleared his throat.

"Right," Solomon gave Sharpay's thigh a pat and helped to extract her from his lap. His erection was obvious; Troy swallowed thickly, but remained otherwise unengaged.

Sharpay had the decency to avoid eye contact when she passed Troy on her way to the door. Her eyes were trained on the floor beneath her feet as she padded away.

With her hand on the door knob, Solomon called out to her and she threw him a look over her shoulder.

"Be a good girl to night and there will be a little something extra special in it for you, bella!"

Her smile was fake, but he winked at her regardless. And then she was gone.

"That Sharpay, she makes my blood boil. She is the one, Troy. She will be my wife, mother to my children, my soul mate. She will produce my heir Troy, together we will be fruitful," He continued, much to Troy's displeasure.

"I will do whatever it takes to have Sharpay. I will put her on a pedestal, shower her with gifts, diamonds, or rubies if she likes. Tiny red rubies the same shade as her perfect little nipples. My trophy wife, the world shall worship her. She will be my grandest possession."

Solomon paused for a breath and Troy prepared himself for what he knew was to come.

"I will take her to bed at my whim, I will fuck her with all the passion I possess, and when she's raw and she thinks that she has had enough, I'll fuck her again, I will make her scream to the heavens. And when she wakes in the morning, sore from the night before, I will make her forget the pain with every single stroke inside that tight little pussy. She will be mine. All mine. Any man who dares to touch her will meet a certain untimely death."

Troy offered a coy smile, he valued his life, and he valued Sharpay. The least he could do was turn up the corner of his lips.

"I am sure she will be a great source of pride to you," Troy spoke, his white knuckle grip on the chair betraying his true feeling.

"I cannot wait, Troy. Such pleasure in my bed, by my side, on my arm, this is it my friend. My Sharpay … my Goddess."

Knowing what Solomon had in mind for his lover, Troy was starting to think that maybe Sharpay being pregnant with his child was not such a bad idea after all.

* * *

><p>AN: I really hope everyone liked this chapter! We're sorry it took so long to publish.

We work really hard on these chapters and it really sucks when we don't get very many reviews, so please, please review!

xoxo.


	10. Chapter 10

Ethan Solomon had had his fair share of women. He was no stranger to lust, it was one of his most primal urges and he had acted on it often since he was a young man. If he had merely wished to have sex with this woman, then tonight would be the final time he saw her, before his desire was quenched and he moved on to more important things.

But Sharpay was different. It wasn't a tangible quality that set her above the rest, he couldn't quite place it, but never before had his feelings been so unbridled. He was willing to do literally anything not only to have her, but to keep her as his for the rest of his time on earth. He wasn't sure that he'd ever experienced romantic love before in his life, but it seemed Sharpay was perfect for him. She possessed everything he could ever want in a woman and he was eager to make her his wife. The thought of escorting her around the city on his arm, the world seeing her and knowing that she was his and his alone pleased him greatly.

Even more pleasing to him was the second his daydream shifted, as he led his dazzling little trophy away from the crowd of admirers and back to his home, _their _home, their bed.

Immediately Solomon felt a familiar coil in his lower abdomen and he allowed his eyes to wander down to Sharpay's ample cleavage, displayed nicely thanks to her low cut silk bodice. She took a gulp of her wine, pretending she didn't notice the way he was ogling her.

"Sharpay," Solomon reached for her hand, grasping it firmly in his own, "I'm so happy to be out with you tonight. I worship you my darling. You realize that, don't you?"

Sharpay set her wine glass down on the table, making the effort to bat her eyelashes flirtatiously, "Of course I do, Ethan. I can hardly blame you for it."

Solomon released a hearty chuckle. Sharpay's narcissism or her confidence, however one preferred to refer to it as, was not off-putting to him, but in fact had the opposite effect.

"You are adorable, love," He stroked her knuckle with his thumb, his eyes glazing over as he allowed them to wander brazenly to her breasts again.

Holding her small, delicate hand in his he imagined how it would feel to have her touch him, her nimble fingers stroking him to completion, or perhaps pulling him into her, so desperate would her need be to have him.

Even more so, he longed to have his own hands roaming her body, feeling her everywhere, when at last she was fully naked in front of him and he was left to do as he pleased with her. His mouth was practically watering. He couldn't wait to play with her.

He had been craving her since the night he first laid eyes on her, sparing not a single thought from his dirty fantasies and forcing himself through a torturous wait. But now, knowing that tonight was the night he was certain he could finally have her, his sexual desires were reaching new maddening heights. She was a terrible itch he was finally so close to scratching, and he grew more anxious with every passing second to achieve this relief.

"Ethan?" Sharpay almost choked on his name as she made the attempt to bring him back to her, finding she had grown timid under his torrid gaze.

He forced his eyes to reconnect with hers, "What is it, Angel?"

He registered the flush of her cheeks and gave her hand a gentle pat, "Forgive an old man for gawking Sharpay. You're just practically too lovely to be true. My mind keeps wandering to the…future we could have together."

Sharpay nodded her permission as Solomon continued to ravish her with his hungry gaze. Staring down the front of her dress he imagined her nipples were hardening and she was growing just as aroused as he was as they dined. Unabashedly he licked his lips, curling his hands slowly into tight fists, as if a way to control himself from using them to lunge at her in the restaurant at that very moment. He was going to have her, tonight, and nothing was standing in his way.

* * *

><p>"What do you think of the place my beauty?" Solomon had his hand placed low on Sharpay's back, feeling the crevice that led to the curve of her bottom as he guided her into his penthouse.<p>

"Stunning!" Sharpay exclaimed, stumbling slightly as Solomon guided her into the living room, wincing from the bright light of the chandelier.

"Careful Darling," Solomon cooed, helping to steady her, "I think you're a little tipsy. Please, reprimand me the next time I attempt to order a second bottle of wine. I don't want to make you sick."

"I'm alright. I can't feel it at all," She lied, "The place is gorgeous, Ethan. Although, doesn't that chandelier get to be a bit much? It feels like I've been looking into the sun too long."

"If you don't like it Sweetheart, I'll get rid of it tomorrow and have you pick a new one," Solomon replied hastily, "Meanwhile, perhaps you would feel more comfortable in my bedroom? The light switch in there has a dimmer."

Sharpay ignored the gnawing at the pit of her stomach, nodding in agreement, "I'd love to see it."

Solomon led Sharpay into his bedroom, furnished with cool marble floors and a plush king sized bed she was sure some cleaning service had made so neatly or him. A faint smell of stale cigar smoke hung in the air, something she doubted he even noticed.

"Have a seat, make yourself comfortable," Solomon directed her with a hand gesture.

There was a rather comfortable looking leather chair and ottoman seated to her right, but Solomon's hand signaled her to head directly for his bed, and she did as he wished, perching herself on the foot of it, sighing as she leant down to unbuckle her stilettos that, as expensive as they were, were beginning to blister her feet.

"Please allow me," Solomon hurriedly knelt down at her feet, removing her shoes himself, and gently massaging her long slender feet between his palms.

After a moment he looked up to gage her facial expression and realized just how close his head was in proximity to her lap. He began to salivate as he thought of how heavenly it would be to throw caution to the wind and shock Sharpay by suddenly burying his head between her thighs at that very moment. As much as the idea appealed to him, he was determined to speak his peace with her first, to do everything in the appropriate order for once. After all, Sharpay was different than any of the other girls. She was his special gem, he thought, as he stood on his feet.

"I want you to fully realize my intentions, Sharpay. I'd do anything for you," Solomon sat down on the foot of the bed beside her, "You're going to mean so much to me Angel. My lover, my wife, my everything."

"Wife?" Sharpay hiccupped, furrowing her brows in confusion while she watched Solomon's fingers gently stroking the flesh of her upper thigh.

"I want you to marry me Sharpay and in return, I'll do anything for you," He leant in to whisper in her ear, his breathing labored with his arousal, "I want the world to admire you and know that you are mine," His hands felt the soft globes of her breasts, kneading them through the thin fabric of her dress, "I want to make love to you Sharpay, constantly. You're going to bring me such happiness, such… satisfaction."

"Ethan, I…" He pulled her into a life lock embrace, squeezing the breath from her with his ferocity and effectively silencing her as he kissed her with his fervor.

Her mind, already affected by her inebriated state, was now reeling, trying to process the prospect of becoming Ethan Solomon's wife, and all that entailed.

She imagined having daughters with names like Angel or Goddess, or any other of their father's favorite pet names for their mother, growing up in and around a famed strip club. She imagined having a son, Ethan Jr., who took after his father. She would love him and nurture him when he was young and yet he would grow up to be just like Solomon, powerful and ruthless. He would take on many lovers while Sharpay waited anxiously and desperately for him to find a suitable wife.

She thought of Troy one day pushing her away when she tried to kiss him in their usual hideaway, telling her he had found someone else, a girl who could give all of herself to him, and that he could no longer be unfaithful with her. She could see herself left alone now, trapped in a loveless marriage, crying in her spacious bedroom, strings of diamonds and pearls around her neck that seemed of little importance to her now. Her daughter was in the room with her, thirteen and dressed in fishnet stockings and latex boots, trying to understand why her mother had suddenly fallen into such a deep depression.

And then it was night time and Baby Girl or whatever they had named their daughter was gone, hopefully in her bedroom asleep and not out drinking with friends, but as much as Sharpay worried over her daughter, Solomon was home now with only one thing on his mind. Sharpay was pushed into bed, stripped of her expensive lingerie, and waited to be ravished by her husband while she shut her eyes and tried to feel something, anything resembling what she had felt with Troy. This was her nightly ritual.

Sharpay could feel a slow panic setting in as she imagined what her future might be like down the road, if she allowed herself to get in progressively deeper with Solomon. He had so much to offer her: money, clout, a lavish lifestyle of childhood living for the rest of her days. But there was still one thing she couldn't get from Ethan Solomon.

She shut her eyes once more, numbing herself to the feeling of Solomon's tongue jammed down her throat, moving her own back robotically. The image in her mind of a little Ethan Solomon slowly morphed, dark shining eyes fading to crystal blue as she thought of a Troy Jr. instead, five years old and dribbling around the basketball goal outside while his father attempted to teach him how to do layups. When their daughter turned thirteen she dressed in pink skirts and floral dresses and Sharpay drove her to her weekly dance classes where she would go out with her friends for ice cream or a movie afterwards and be home before ten.

Sharpay pictured herself lying in her marital bed, feeling Troy crawl in beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist to spoon her, nuzzling her neck and kissing her shoulder blades, making her feel safe, secure, at home. He whispered in her ear that he loved her, that he always would love her, and that he always had loved her. Hearing him say those words was all she wanted; all she needed.

Ethan had already found the zipper of her dress and tugged it down with a sort of anxious eagerness that resembled a child ripping open a Christmas present. With one simple flick of his fingers he had her bra clasp unhooked and Sharpay felt the undergarment being shed from her body along with her dress in one quick downward swoop.

"Oh Sharpay," Solomon panted heavily as his eyes raked over her with a look so deviant she felt as though she had been violated, "You're so beautiful. So goddamn sexy."

"Ethan, I think…" Sharpay hesitated, suddenly wanting to end this but not sure there was a safe way to do so.

Solomon was quickly shedding himself of his own clothes, shocking Sharpay when his massive erection was revealed to her, creating a large tent in his boxers.

"I've watched you dancing naked night after night. I've imagined so many different scenarios in which you were finally in front of me like this, just begging to be touched, ready to give yourself over to me. I feel like a kid at the candy store now." He darted his tongue out, using it to flick one of her rosy buds, nipping lightly at her nipples.

"Ethan…" Sharpay tried again, feeling her heart beat accelerating to new heights, suddenly desperate to be out of that bedroom.

"Nobody ever calls me by my first name," He breathed heavily in response, "Nobody but you. I love hearing you call me that."

"Ethan it's too soon!" Sharpay blurted, the only thing she could think to say that wasn't an admission of her feelings for Troy.

"What is?" Solomon looked up at her with confusion, unhappy at having his sexual liaisons interrupted, however briefly.

"I'm just not sure I'm ready," Sharpay tried, "I think that- oh!"

She gasped at the feeling of Solomon's fingers, stroking and prodding her through her panties.

"Your pussy is already wet for me Love," Solomon kissed her lips as a means to hush her protests, "Why let all of that go to waste?"

He grabbed at her blonde locks with one hand, trailing his mouth down to suck at the column of her neck, while his other hand roamed across the curve of her bottom, squeezing and feeling.

"No, Ethan please," Sharpay tried again in avail, and then found the courage to push him by the shoulders, "I'm sorry, I just can't. I'm going to leave."

He seemed stunned for a moment and she thought that might have done the trick. She made the attempt to stand from the bed, intending to follow through with her statement, but was halted as he suddenly grabbed her wrists, pulling her back towards him. He wasn't looking at her face this time and his grip tightened as he twisted her wrists, inflicting pain upon her whether he intended to or not, while he devoured her body with his eyes. She was a piece of meat and the revelation made her tremble.

"Don't be a tease," He growled.

He yanked her back onto his lap, diving for her breasts again, and suckling her once more. Sharpay realized with sickening dread that she had no chance of getting out of this. She had gotten herself into it and now she would suffer the cost, hurting Troy in the process. Solomon's erection was hard as steel and digging into the crotch of her panties and tears began to spring in her eyes as she processed the reality of what he was doing to her.

"Please," She gave it one more hopeless shot, "Ethan, I don't want to do this."

"Ssh," Solomon hushed, pressing a bony thin digit to her plump lips to silence her, "I promise, I'm going to make everything okay. Your body wants this Sharpay, you're just getting cold feet on me. I'll make it good for you, you'll see once it's all over."

"Just not tonight," Sharpay pleaded, "Later, just not now. I don't feel good! You said so yourself, I drank too much wine!"

"Sharpay, I meant it when I said I would do anything for you," Solomon answered, "I will. Anything you want you shall have. I just need you to do one thing for me."

She shook her head but his eyes had already left her face again and he seemed to ignore her body's gentle shakes as she cried to herself. She felt him shove his hand into her panties, his fingers prodding greedily at her folds, ready to take something she wasn't willing to give him and her stomach began to heave, threatening vomit. Solomon's index finger thrust up inside of her and she squeezed her eyes shut tight as she gasped, trying to block out the feeling and take herself somewhere else. It would all be over soon, she told herself, instead trying to take herself to a happier place.

She screamed as she felt herself being hoisted up by her shoulders, thrust onto the cold marble floor.

"Troy?" She heard Ethan say the name and then she watched as her lover's strong arms lifted the heavy pan above him, bringing it down with force onto her offender's head.

"Sharpay are you all right?" Troy was kneeling beside her in an instant, wrapping her shivering naked body into his secure embrace, stroking her hair soothingly while he felt her heartbeat hammering rapidly against his, "Ssh, I've got you now. Nothing's going to happen to you."

She buried her face in his chest, finally allowing herself to release her sobs freely, the loud cries echoing in the spacious room. Troy bit down angrily on his bottom lip, drawing blood. He had saved her, but he was still ridden with guilt. He hadn't done enough. He hadn't protected her to the fullest extent, saved her from the trauma and pain this would cause her.

"I'm sorry Sharpay," He squeezed her into him as tightly as possible, and then noticed a slight stirring movement in the corner where Solomon's body lay.

"We've got to get out of here," He lifted Sharpay up to her feet, regretting that he couldn't wait and hold her for as long as she needed to grieve before placing more stress on her, but he knew this was urgent.

"Come on, let's get you dressed," He instructed.

Sharpay seemed to understand and she blinked back her tears as she struggled to re-clothe herself. Then, she turned suddenly, pressing her lips to Troy's, a thanks she couldn't wait to give him until after they had left Solomon's apartment.

"Troy you saved me," She praised, "How did you know?"

"I've been pacing this block for the past hour. I couldn't go home, I was worried, and then… I just knew," He cupped her face in his hands, using his thumbs to catch her trailing tears, "It was fate Sharpay, see? I'm going to be the one to protect you."

She kissed him again, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, standing on her toes to allow her lips to be level with his now that her high heels were left abandoned near the bed.

"Sharpay?"

She jumped hearing her name from a voice other than her savior's and she realized with terror that Solomon was not unconscious, not knowing at one point he had come to.

"Just keep dressing," Troy pressed gently.

"Troy, I trusted you," Solomon struggled to hold his eyes open, his hand holding his crown protectively, forcing himself to stay awake, "You were supposed to be protecting her for me. That wasn't the first time the two of you have kissed, was it? You've touched her haven't you? You can't take what's mine Troy and expect my forgiveness."

"She doesn't belong to you," Troy bit back, "She's not a trophy to be won."

Troy reached for the handle of the metal pan again, gripping the handle tightly in his right fist.

Solomon knew he was about to be knocked in to temporary defeat but he took advantage of his last seconds of consciousness to issue a warning, "I will have her Troy. She shall be mine, forever. And I'll see to it personally that you're done away with so that she will never be led astray from me again."

Sharpay trembled in the background as she listened to the threat, fearing for her own freedom and even more so for Troy's life.

She shut her eyes against the sound of the heavy metal making contact with Solomon's skull. She didn't realize she was in hysterics again until she felt Troy's arms tightly around her once more, kissing the top of her hair and rubbing her back and repeatedly assuring her that he would see to it that she was kept safe; that everything was going to be okay.

* * *

><p>Sharpay gripped Troy's forearm and watch as he tried to load the trunk with bags and boxes. His muscles flexed and strained as he single headedly hoisted her rolling luggage case and packed it in with the rest of their belongings. They'd grabbed what they could, what they needed, Sharpay could not focus, her fingers trembled and the act a quick getaway was far from imminent. Sharpay was in shock. Given what he had had to witness, he could very well understand. But frustration lapped at his tongue and he had to force himself to bite his bottom lip. Getting into it with Sharpay was not doing them any favours.<p>

Troy threw down the boot and turned to Sharpay. He framed her face between thick hands and brushed his thumb across the apple her pale cheek.

"It's going to be okay, I promise. We have everything we need. He has all the money in the world. He's not worried about our measly worldly possessions, Sharpay. We disrespected his honor, that's why Ethan will come after us."

Sharpay let the tears fall. It was a knee-jerk reaction, completely involuntary on her part. Her shoulders shook and the last thing she wanted was to look weak in front of Troy.

"Hey … hey," He spoke, stepping closer to her, taking her into the circle of his embrace. "I'm going to get us out of this. Do you trust me, Sharpay? Tell me that you trust me."

He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tipped her face forward, setting his lips against hers, coaxing her back, little by little. His kiss was soft, not insistent, not disarming. He simply offered support, warmth and affection.

Sharpay sighed and nodded.

"Good girl. Come on," He motioned to her side of the car. "Ladies first," He spoke as he opened the door and ushered Sharpay into the passenger's seat.

He managed to drag himself to the other side of the car, leaning heavily on the roof to compose himself before having to put on a brave face for Sharpay. The door clicked behind him and he slumped against the steering wheel. His hands braced either side of his face.

"Are you okay to drive?" Sharpay's almost inaudible voice shocked him.

"Yeah," He smiled at her, taking her fingers in his and placing a kiss to her palm. He wrapped her hand in his and lifted his free hand to push the bangs out of her face. "I guess it's goodbye New York," Troy shrugged.

"Goodbye, New York," Sharpay echoed.

Troy sat back and drew the seatbelt over his shoulder. He turned the key in the ignition and the old custom Porsche came to life. The motor purred, and he shifted his hand on the gearbox, pulling out into the stream of traffic that merged around them, bidding farewell to the great Big Apple.

* * *

><p>The night sky loomed above them, dark and foreboding, the sliver of moon barely recognizable amongst the clouds that arranged themselves neatly. Troy eased off the gas as he came to a red light, his head turned to the silhouette of Sharpay, bathed by the glow of neon red, tear tracks marred her flesh, but still, she slept on.<p>

Troy pinched the bridge of his nose and reached across to cup her cheek.

_She's so beautiful._ He thought to himself. _My God, she is so beautiful and I have fallen for her. I have fallen for Sharpay._

He dueled with the idea of telling that he was in love with her, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. He hadn't even felt the impact.

He brushed his thumb across her lips and Sharpay stirred, shifting in her seat.

The light turned green and Troy turned his attention back to the road ahead. They were in for a long drive, across states, but he was determined to deliver her from harm's way. He would have to sit on his acknowledgement for now. It wasn't the right time. There was one thing he knew for sure, that Sharpay needed time. He couldn't drop another bombshell. Not tonight.

"Hey," Came Sharpay's groggy voice.

"Hey," He smiled, his gaze still on the road before them.

"What time is it?" Sharpay asked, tucking her legs up under her, nuzzling at Troy's hand.

"I don't know, check my cell," He pointed to the phone in his pocket.

Sharpay pushed her hand into the pocket of his jeans, rummaging past his wallet and the gum and the keys that he kept on him. The cell was cold against the tips of her fingers, and she withdrew her hand and waited for the display to light up.

1:08 – the numbers read.

"It's early," She told him, watching him with guarded interest.

"Early … late," He spoke. "It's all the same when you work the hours that we do."

Sharpay's body stiffened and she tried not to tremble. Logically, she knew that she was safe here with Troy, but she could not for the life of her shift the memories, her body, bare before Solomon, his intentions clear. Sharpay shook her head. She should have seen it coming, she should have known. Troy had warned her and she hadn't listened.

Closing her eyes, Sharpay inhaled deeply and promised to listen to Troy from now on. She owed him that much, she owed him so much more.

As if he knew what she was thinking, Troy spoke.

"I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner, Sharpay. I'm sorry," He stuttered, trying to force out the words that he so desperately wanted to forget about. "I'm sorry that I couldn't get there in time. That he touched you …" Troy's hand gripped the steering wheel and his knuckles ached with the force of his anger.

"It's okay, Troy," Sharpay soothed. "It's okay. Thanks to you, I'm okay. Not all the way okay, but I'm here with you now, and that makes it okay, Troy. That makes it better."

What the hell could he say to that? He wasn't a hero. He was in love with a beautiful woman who deserved so much more than the life she'd been handed. Troy shook his head, too angry to say anything else.

"So, where are we going?" Sharpay asked, watching his brow furrow in concentration.

After a moments silence, Troy answered the question.

"Home, Sharpay. We're going home."

* * *

><p>The morning had just begun to stir in Albuquerque, the sun was on the horizon and the dawn was about to break as Troy made the last turn into the street where he had lived as a child. Sharpay sat beside him, awake and alert, the last eight hours rest had done them good and after a hot shower and something to fill their empty bellies, their focus was set on their destination – they were homeward bound.<p>

"Troy, are you sure this is a good idea?" Sharpay asked as the car came to a stop in the drive.

"Sharpay, don't worry about it. My parents won't care that we're here."

Sharpay nervously fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve and turned to look at Troy.

"Your dad, he'll remember me. I'm sure he never liked me when we were at school. We can't very well tell your parents that I'm a stripper, they'll ask me to leave. Troy, are you listening to me?"

Troy chuckled. "Sharpay, it's fine. My parents may not like what I do for a living, but they're not about to throw me and my guest out of the house because of it. Besides, you used to be a stripper. If you think I'm ever going to let you get up on a stage like that again, you're dreaming."

And then Troy amended his sentence. "Unless you're acting. Then that would be okay."

A tap at the driver's side window drew their attention away from their discussion and Troy saw his mother in robe and slippers standing at attention.

"It's now or never," He smiled at Sharpay and squeezed her hand.

Stepping from the car, Troy was engulfed by his mother's embrace.

"Troy. Oh my goodness! I saw the car from the kitchen window. What on Earth are you doing here at this time of the morning? Not that I'm not glad to see my son."

Troy gazed across the roof to where Sharpay stood. His mother followed his line of vision and smiled.

"And you brought a friend with you. That's nice dear."

"Hello Mrs. Bolton," Sharpay gave a small wave.

"Mom, this is Sharpay Evans. You remember her from East High, right?"

Troy watched his mother's mind tick over before she gave a tight smile and nodded. "Yes, I think I remember."

Troy rolled his eyes and took off in the direction of the house, picking up Sharpay's hand on the way, his thumb grazing the line of her knuckles in support. Obviously, this wasn't going to be as easy as he had first imagined.

They met his father at the front door, his mother followed close behind, bringing up the rear.

"Troy," He blinked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He turned to look at the woman standing next to Troy. "Sharpay? Sharpay Evans?" He looked at the two of them together and then sighed. "I guess the two of you had better come in."

Lucille Bolton regarded her husband with wide eyes, a silent moment of fear passing between them as they followed Troy and Sharpay into the dining room.

Sharpay sat as Jack took up a seat at the head of the table and Troy helped his mother with tea and toast. Troy explained over the remnants of breakfast, and sniggered as his mother had to pat his father on between the shoulder blades when his toast went down the wrong way and threatened to choke the man between sips of black coffee.

"So," Troy's father cleared his throat. "What you're trying to tell us is that you and Sharpay are in a relationship of sorts, but that you stole her from your boss, who is some head of the Mob and now he's out for your blood?"

"Troy didn't really steal me," Sharpay added in a quiet voice. "I was never for Ethan Solomon."

Troy's mouth fell open and he looked at Sharpay. She turned her face towards the floor. Her cheeks grew to a rosy hue of blush and her heart hammered beneath her ribs.

"What do you need from us, Son?"

Troy shrugged. "The keys to the holiday home. Somewhere to hide out for a while, at least until he gets tired of looking."

"No," Lucille folded her arms across her chest. "No way, Troy. I mean, what if he doesn't stop looking? What if I never see you again?"

"Mom …"

Troy was cut off by his father.

"Okay, okay," His hands made the motions as he spoke. "Let's try to be calm about this. Troy, you've done a really dumb thing, you've upset your mother and you've gotten Sharpay involved in this ridiculous lifestyle you insist on living. But I'm not going to see a son of mine gunned down in cold blood. You can have the keys to the beach house, as long as you and Sharpay promise to stay long enough that your mother can take care of you. Let her wash your clothes and do what she does best."

Lucille glared at her husband. His outdated stereotypical views would have to wait. For now.

"Sharpay?" Troy asked his travel companion.

"I think I can handle that, Troy."

"I'll go and make up the spare room," Lucille spoke to Troy, and then stopped in her tracks. "Or will I just change the sheets on your old bed?"

Troy looked embarrassed as he answered, and Sharpay's hand caressed his knee under the table.

"Just my bed is fine, Mom."

* * *

><p>Sharpay's fingers paused on the button she was about to pull from the fastening of her shirt and looked at Troy who sat on the edge of the bed, pulling off socks and shoes.<p>

"I don't think your mom likes the idea of us sharing your childhood bed."

Troy shrugged. "It's not like I'm fifteen anymore. She'll have to get over it."

Troy tugged off his sock and balled it up in his fist, throwing it into the pile behind the bedroom door. He stood and made his way over to Sharpay, covering her wrists, he wrapped his fingers around her hands and she sighed into his chest as he eased them both back onto the bed.

"I wasn't sure how much space you would need. I don't want to leave you alone, but if you say the word, Sharpay, I won't touch you."

Sharpay turned in Troy's arms and pressed her lips against his cheek chastely.

"That's sweet of you, really, but I need you to hold me. I need his hands to be gone, replaced with yours. He won't win; I won't let his actions haunt me, not when I know that you can make it better."

"It might be too soon, Sharpay."

"Trust me, Troy. It's not. I need you to make me feel better. I need it Troy, please."

Troy's hands roved up over Sharpay's shoulders, shifting the hair from her neck, he bent to taste the skin of her décolletage, his tongue tracing the line to the valley of her breasts.

"Mmm, Troy," Sharpay giggled.

"Shh," He held up his finger and rolled them over so that he could move his body over Sharpay. "We have to be quiet. Very, very, quiet."

* * *

><p>AN: This is our story's first big climax so if you haven't been reviewing so far, now's a great time to start. Either way, please review. Oh, and if you want to make assumptions about my character based on some fanfiction I've written, then you're a ridiculous person, but go ahead, call me a bitch. I can take it.

Thanks for reading.

xoxo.


	11. Chapter 11

She had shattered his world. In an instant she had swooped back into his life and almost immediately it seemed his entire universe revolved around her. He was a sentimentalist, probably. Perhaps he'd taken coincidence or strange happening and insisted on calling it fate. Maybe it was not his destiny to save and protect this girl from his past, but he believed now that it was, and that was all that truly counted, he supposed.

She felt so good; so right curled up in his arms, her naked body pressed against his. She fit effortlessly, like she just belonged there; like she always had. He reflected on the past, his teenage boyhood and wondered how on earth it was possible that he had ever been able to look at her without losing his breath, if only for a second. Sure, he'd always known she was a beautiful girl, but suddenly it was as if she had possessed him. He wanted to see her in his future, to know that he could always be right by her side, wherever life took them.

They had lived a fast life and fittingly so their relationship had been a whirlwind. It had been only four months since he had become acquainted with the woman version of Sharpay and yet he had already plunged deep. He was crazy about her and he had no idea why it took him rescuing her from the hands of an assaulter to realize that he loved her.

He longed to tell her, but her history and fear of frightening her and facing rejection held him back. The timing wasn't right. He couldn't pounce on her, freshly victimized as she was, and expect her to attempt to reflect on just how deep her feelings for him ran. She may have still felt that they weren't ready for a serious commitment, although he hoped the fact that she was curled up with him in his childhood room signified otherwise. He couldn't have held a girl here in this room that was all of his past if he hadn't felt that he held in his arms all that was his future.

"Sharpay?" He whispered, so soft he scarcely heard himself, not wanting to wake her if she had fallen asleep. She needed her rest and he planned to see to it that she got plenty of it.

She didn't stir in his arms and he clutched her closely. He needed to get it off of his chest, to say it once, out loud, just to be sure that he meant it. She wouldn't hear him and when she awoke the next day there was no chance anything would be suddenly awkward or uncomfortable between them.

"I want you," He whispered into her hair, kissing the crown of her head, "You're so perfect Sharpay. I love you."

The words hung in the air and he realized it didn't matter if she hadn't heard them. He could never take them back, because they were the truth.

She moved slightly in his arms and his heart began to hammer as she tilted her head up to see him, struggling to squint her sleepy eyes open to make out the silhouette of her lover's face.

"Did you just tell me you love me?"

He hadn't intended her to hear him, but to retract his words now would be wrong for so many reasons.

He inhaled a sharp breath and pressed his lips to her forehead, "Yes, Sharpay. I love you. You don't need to say anything back, okay? Just go to sleep," He rubbed circles in her back, keeping her close.

She mashed her lips to his, stunning him, and throwing him off guard.

"Troy, I think on some level I've always been in love with you and I never really let go," She confessed, smiling into the darkness of the room, "I never thought I'd hear you say those words to me and… you're the only guy I've ever told that I loved him."

"You might be the only girl that I ever meant it when I said it," Troy responded, cradling her face in his palms and kissing her lips, "I'm going to take care of you Sharpay, okay? Ethan Solomon or not, no matter what happens from here on out, I want to be with you."

"Oh Troy," She murmured, trying to suppress the yawn that fell from her lips.

"Ssh, go to sleep now baby," He coaxed, kissing her pouty lips one last time as he couldn't resist, "I'll be here when you wake up and you can say all that you want to then."

She wove in and out of consciousness as she drifted, but her last coherent thought to herself was an image of her and Troy, snuggled up together in some place sunny, where darkness and danger was a world behind them, and all they had to focus on was this newly revealed love.

* * *

><p>Jack Bolton was concerned. For point five eight seconds out of the minute, he was sure that he had been crippled with fear as he knocked on the bathroom door that Sharpay currently occupied.<p>

Sharpay sat with her knees tucked up under her chin, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs as she felt the nausea rise again. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, but the stifled air in the small room did her head no good.

Jack knocked once more, and one again, Sharpay ignored his voice.

She could put this one down to stress, the bile that was rising in her throat as she thought, it was stress, the stress of the past few days. Maybe her body was still in shock, it was always a possibility. Except for the fact that her breasts were tender and she knew that she was about to fly off the handle should Troy's father interrupt her moment of solitude one more time.

Sharpay counted the days on her fingers, thinking back to last time she and Troy had been intimate. It was not likely that she could really remember every session they had had to date. If he wanted her, he had her, days and nights blurred into weeks that stretched into unscheduled blocks of time. She was lucky if she could tell whether she was coming or going these days. She screwed her eyes up and thought carefully. Almost five weeks since their rendezvous at the nightclub. Christ, could she be that far along already?

She felt her shoulders shake and the sob broke from somewhere deep in her throat. This was the last thing Troy needed to deal with. Sharpay's body betrayed her and she rose up onto her knees once more to empty the measly contents of stomach into the toilet bowl.

The tears came hard and fast then, unbridled.

"Sharpay, so help me. If you don't open the door right now …" Jack demanded, his hand poised to bring it back down onto the door again.

The lock on the door clicked and Sharpay leaned forward and looked at Troy's father. She looked like a mess, and he felt himself soften at the sight of his son's childhood friend turned lover.

"Sharpay? What's the matter; do you want me to get Troy?"

"No … please. Don't get Troy."

"What's the matter? Are you alreaght?"

Sharpay shook her head vehemently. "I think I've ruined everything," She spoke, her voice an octave higher than it usually was. "I think I'm pregnant, Coach Bolton."

Jack took a deep breath and rubbed his chin as he watched Sharpay's gaze hit the cool, crisp tiles beneath her feet. He watched her toes curl and cringed with the sob that tore from her throat.

"Okay, okay. We'll deal with this, Sharpay," He tried to soothe her fears; tried to placate her like he used to do when his son was a child.

_His son was a child._

His son was probably going to have a child.

"Christ," He muttered beneath his breath.

Sharpay's shoulders shook as she cried, the pitiful whimpers shook his resolve and he wracked his brain for some kind of solution before the commotion rocked the rest of the neighbors.

"There's an all night drugstore a few blocks away. "I'll just …" He threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the front door and backed away, one step at a time, feeling guilty. He closed the door behind him and fumbled with his car keys, sliding into his seat; he slumped against the steering wheel and shook his head. He hadn't had to purchase a pregnancy test in years.

* * *

><p>"Okay, Sharpay," Jack fumbled with the instructions in his hands. God, why couldn't she just let him get Troy to help her?<p>

"I can't do it," Sharpay wailed behind the door. "I can't ruin Troy's life. It's too hard."

"Sharpay, I'm not really sure what you want me to do. The test is straightforward enough that you can do it without my help. I'm not really comfortable offering you," He gestured to the door though she could not see it, "A hand."

"I can't do it. I can't do it," Sharpay repeated her mantra while she sat propped up against the bathtub and brought her knees up to her chest.

"Oh Christ, Sharpay. Just, you know … hold it and do what you do," Jack mumbled, wringing his hands together.

Sharpay gave no reply, except for the muffled sobs that slipped through the crack beneath the door.

"Dad? Dad, what's wrong? What's going on? I could hear you and Sharpay from my room."

Jack Bolton turned on his heel and faced his son with a slightly skewed smile and a whistle in his tune.

"Ah, Sharpay thought she saw a mouse. I was trying to help."

Troy shook his head.

"That's pretty inappropriate and it also doesn't explain the fact that you're holding a pregnancy test. Something you and Sharpay want to tell me, Dad?"

"No, Son. Nope, nothing to tell."

Troy sighed and pushed his way past his father. He turned over his shoulder to speak as he gripped the doorknob.

"You can go now. I'll handle it. I know how to deal with Sharpay."

Troy's father opened his mouth to speak but thought twice when his son cast him a glare that told him to 'shut the hell up'.

"Sharpay? It's me, it's Troy. Open the door for me baby. I'm coming in."

"I'll just be in the kitchen," Jack spoke to the back of his son's head. "Drinking something stiff," He added under his breath.

Jack retreated to the safety of his hard liquor and Troy paid no attention to his father as the lock on the bathroom door clicked over and the sight on Sharpay on the cold tiles took his breath away. It broke his heart.

"Sharpay, what's wrong? Did Dad hurt you?"

His initial response was to panic, given the trauma she'd had to endure just a few measly days ago.

Sharpay shook her head. He was tough, and he'd pushed Troy for as long as Sharpay could remember, breaking his balls, forcing Troy to be the best that he could, but there was no way that Coach Bolton would hurt her. That much she could say for certain.

Troy frowned and stepped across the room to the bathroom sink. Rooting around in the draws next to the vanity he found a face cloth and folded it in half. He passed it under the tap for a moment before turning back to kneel down next to Sharpay. He dabbed at her cheeks, swollen and moist, her eyes barely even open. With even strokes, he wiped away the dry salt that caked her porcelain skin.

Sharpay stifled a sob and looked up at Troy.

"I'm sorry, Troy. I'm so sorry. This is the worst timing ever. Even worse than the time I walked in on my mother having her weekly Brazilian," She cringed.

"Hey," Troy cupped her face with his free hand. "It's going to be okay. We'll get through this together. Do you need me to help you with the test?"

Sharpay shook her head, but Troy refused to take no for an answer. Scooping her up into his arms, he sat her gently on edge of the tub and kicked the toilet lid up with the ball of his foot. Sharpay sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. Troy's button down shirt was loose, and she fiddled with the cuffs. Troy took a knee and the palm of his hand found Sharpay's thigh. He eased his fingers under the elastic of her panties and tugged. Lifting one smooth leg and then the other, he eased them down past her ankles and threw them over his shoulder. Sharpay giggled.

"Come on, I'll be here the whole time. I'm not going anywhere, Sharpay. We'll do this together, okay?"

Sharpay nodded mutely, her gaze still locked with Troy's as she moved towards the toilet.

"Three minutes," She whispered, the test clenched in her fist. "We have to wait three minutes. No longer than five."

Troy swallowed thickly and waited as Sharpay handed over the small strip of startling plastic that held the clues to the rest of his life. He sat it on the rim of the tub and took a deep breath.

"I've never been very good at waiting," Sharpay admitted amidst the silence that enveloped the two."

Troy checked his watch again and shrugged. "Me neither." He peered over the edge of the tub and smiled back at Sharpay. He probably should have been more cautious, guarded with his reaction, but he could not help the love that tugged at his heart strings.

"What? What is it?" Sharpay asked, her nerves all but shot to hell.

Troy turned to look at the love of his life, blotchy and dishevelled, sitting on the toilet seat with his shirt falling down around her thighs.

"It's positive, Sharpay."

He held his hands behind his back, his fingers were crossed and he asked a silent prayer of acceptance on her behalf. Right now, he couldn't possibly handle the thought that in her mind at least, this was as far from right as she could imagine.

Sharpay blinked and shifted her hair from her face.

"We're pregnant?" She asked, her face a mask of calm.

"Yes," Troy confirmed, his hands shaking were he held them.

"We're pregnant?" Sharpay said again.

Troy crouched in front of her and took her hands. "Sharpay? Are you alright? Talk to me."

"I guess," She said quietly, reverently, "At least it was you and not Ethan."

Troy gathered Sharpay in his arms and the two of them sunk to the floor as he held her close to his chest, his fingers splayed across the small of her back.

"We're going to be okay, Sharpay. You have to believe me; we're going to get through this … together."

* * *

><p>Troy stepped into the kitchen and Jack looked up from his coffee mug, a mixed liquor drink inside, the container purposefully deceptive, should Lucille wake up from all of the commotion and come downstairs to find him.<p>

"What's the verdict?" He asked his son, though he already sensed the answer, the question serving as nothing more than a polite formality.

"I guess…" Troy shook his head, "She's been under so much stress and this was the first little stretch of time she's had to really take a step back from it all. I guess that's why it never occurred to her until now."

"She's pregnant then?" Jack took a swig from his mug and Troy continued to ignore the direct question, rummaging through the fridge until he found something worth eating.

He returned empty handed and finally shrugged, sitting down at the kitchen table across from his father, "She said she wanted to sleep but I know she's awake. She needed a little alone time. I just want to hold her and make sure she knows she's not alone but I don't want to put too much pressure on her."

"This is, um," Jack chuckled a bit to himself, "It's a bit dysfunctional, Troy. The whole thing."

Troy nodded, "Oh I know. Last week I was carting her around New York City to dates with a mob boss, who happens to be my boss, and now I've got her bundled up inside my childhood room, my child inside of her."

Hearing the words out loud, Jack was betrayed by his emotions, laughing out loud before he could stop himself.

"It isn't a funny situation, Dad," Troy snapped, "Sharpay's been through a lot."

"I know, I know," Jack conceded, "I'm just thinking about your poor mother. She hasn't seen you in ages and when you finally come home to visit, you bring a knocked up stripper with you."

His father erupted again in his laughter, and although it angered Troy, he felt the corners of his mouth tug up momentarily. His father's reaction almost made sense in a way, the only way he was able to handle the absurdity of it all.

Jack's expression slowly faded to solemn once again and he stared his son in the eyes, "What are you going to do?"

Troy shook his head, at a loss for words, "Whatever Sharpay wants, Dad. I'll just support her."

* * *

><p>The lights were off in Troy's bedroom as he creaked open the door, but he sensed she was still awake.<p>

"Sharpay?" His eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, as he heard her body turn over on the bed.

"I want to be left alone Troy," She insisted, "Please."

"You've been alone for long enough," He argued, "And anyway you aren't alone in this, so just let me in."

He flipped the light switch on, his heart breaking when he saw her, eyes red and puffy, swollen from all the tears she must have cried.

"Oh baby, don't cry," He was on the bed next to her in an instant, scooping her into his arms and clutching her close, as he spooned her from behind, "Everything's going to be okay. I promise."

"Troy, we can't have a child. We lost our jobs and abandoned our homes and what, we're just going to raise a baby in your parents' beach condo, all the while hoping Ethan Solomon doesn't track us down and get his revenge?" She shook her head, "How could we be so stupid as to let a baby come in the middle of all this?"

"Everything happens for a reason," Troy tried softly.

"I don't believe that Troy. I can't believe there was a greater force that wanted to see my dreams shattered, to leave me broken and desperate working in a strip club. There can't be a reason for…" She paused as her body shuddered, "Him touching me like that; for me not being able to stop him. Troy I'm glad that we met again and I'm thankful to you for saving me from him, but those were both incidents of coincidence, not fate. This is a shitty world we live in, plain and simple, and bad things happen to us every day. I just don't know if I can bring a child into this world. Not my world at least."

Troy swallowed, finding his throat had run dry, and he tried desperately to sum up his emotions in words, "Sharpay. I wasn't happy before. I told myself I was but I wasn't. I was miserable and alone and then you walked back into my life. Being around you, I feel like my life actually has purpose. Like making you happy is the most important thing in the world. You're _my _savior. I love you so much. And if you give me just a little bit of time, I promise I'll give you the life you deserve. I don't know what I'm going to do right now, but we'll figure it out. I don't want to ever see you cry again, Sharpay. I want to make everything better."

He reached around her and rolled her over, forcing her to look him in the eyes. His right hand lay on the small of her back, while his left arm was supporting her under her rib cage, wrapped around her in a comforting embrace. He kissed her forehead, nuzzling her nose gently before he spoke again, "You deserve a life of love and happiness. All this pain and heartache, it will be gone soon enough. I know our world is dark but it doesn't always have to be. I don't know what we're going to do right now, but we'll find a way, and I have some money saved up meanwhile. You don't have to worry about a thing. I'll figure everything out and I'll take care of you Sharpay. I promise. You trust me, don't you?"

She nodded at him, her eyes welled with tears, and his heart ached with the realization that he wouldn't be able to say enough to truly assure her.

He held her body tightly against his, feeling her heart thump against his chest, "You know I really do love you?"

She nodded again as she struggled to fight the urge to sob again, salty tears blurring her vision. Troy himself could have cried merely at the sight of it, and he rubbed her back soothingly, as she finally broke into a fit of cries, shaking in his strong arms.

* * *

><p>"I want them found," Ethan Solomon stood behind his grand desk, addressing his subservient workers, "As soon as possible."<p>

"Sure, boss," One of his employees answered, his skin grey and aged, speaking with a heavy Italian tongue, "We'll find 'em, and whack 'em both. Should we kill the girl first and make him watch, or the other way around?"

"You're not to touch her!" Solomon roared, startling the other men, "This isn't your every day duty. This is so important that I intend to go myself, with your escort of course, to find them. I'll kill Troy with my own hands."

"What about Miss Evans?" One of the young bouncers of the club asked, licking his lips as he thought back to the memory of the blonde, naked and dancing on stage, "Maybe we ought to all have turns at her while Bolton watches. That would get him good and mad, seeing his girl for the whore she is."

Solomon struggled to control his temper, a blood vessel in his forehead a deep shade of purple, pumping furiously, "If anyone of you tries to lay your fucking hands on her, I'll see to it that your brains are splayed across the wall. I'm going to be the one to kill that Brutus, and afterwards, Sharpay will come back to New York with me, where from that day on I will be the only man who ever knows the pleasure of touching her. Understood?"

The men all mumbled their concessions, and Solomon, satisfied, proceeded with his meeting.

"My best guess is that the two would have headed back home. Fleeing to Mommy and Daddy is a common instinctual response in situations like this. It's just a matter of whether they've headed to his home or hers. Now Troy was from Albuquerque, but Sharpay never told me what state she was from," He nodded to one of his guards, "Benito, what did you dig up?"

"Sir, you're not going to like this…" Benito shook his head, fearful of being the bearer of bad news.

"What is it?" Solomon growled.

"Sharpay Evans. Daughter to Vance and Darby Evans. They weren't hard to locate because they own their own business. A country club… in Albuquerque, New Mexico." He rattled off his discovery while Solomon furrowed his brow in confusion.

"They're both from the same city?" Although optimistically he realized that the seeming coincidence meant less work for him, the hairs on his neck stood up, telling him Troy had been lying to him from the beginning.

"Looked into that a little more, and uh," Benito reached into his back pocket, pulling out one folded sheet of printed paper, "Both graduated from East High School, the same year too. The school's website had an archive, where I found this. From some school play."

He held up the printed photo for his boss to see, a high school cast in costume smiling up on stage, "That's Troy. And that's her, isn't it?"

Solomon struggled to make heads or tails of the matter, "They knew each other… grew up together? He must have known who she was the moment he saw her and yet he lied to me, feigned ignorance. He sought to protect her from me and must have caught feelings along the way."

Solomon felt inside his blazer, caressing his pistol, and chuckled, "I almost feel bad for him. All the trouble he went through and he'll still lose the girl in the end. Along with his life. To Albuquerque it is."

* * *

><p>AN: Please, please review. We're getting nada and it'd really be nice to get some feedback.

xGuiltyxPleasure's individual A/N: Sorry I updated this before All That Glitters. That's coming soon, promise.

Look how easy fanfiction has made it for you to review. The box is right underneath this author's note. You don't even have to open a new window. Now that they've made it so easy for you, you'll have no reason not to review, right?

xoxo.


	12. Chapter 12

The night sky had chased away the last vestiges of the sun and Troy's room was dark except for a sliver of light from the moon that shone through the cracks in the window shades. Troy could not see his hand in front of his face, but still his thumb continued to caress the smooth skin that was taut across Sharpay's abdomen. Her breathing was even as she slept, her chest rising and falling as she inhaled and exhaled.

" … And I know that Grampa can be grumpy sometimes, but I really think he's going to love you," His voice was gentle, a lilt that crooned through the silence of his bedroom like a lullaby.

"Don't tell Mommy, but I think I kind of want you to be a girl," Troy shrugged, his fingers curling around Sharpay's navel as if he could protect the tiny child within.

"You know, don't get me wrong, a boy would be nice, we can play ball, but my dad will get really annoying. Trust me; I had to live with him for years. He was my coach; I know what he's like. But a little girl, like her mother …" Troy sighed and paused mid sentence to collect his thoughts.

"I kept your Mom safe, you know, it's what I do. I want to keep both of you safe."

He pressed his lips against Sharpay's abdomen and lingered, just for a moment, his eyes closed tightly as he fought against the urge to cry.

"I promise I'll be the best dad I can be, and there will be cake and cotton candy and all of those bad things your mom probably won't let you have," He spoke again, the sincerity in his voice choking him as he forced himself to swallow the lump amassed in his throat.

"We'll be okay, Kid. I promise."

His hand shook as he drew his fingers across the skin once more before he pulled the comforter back over himself and Sharpay. His chest pressed into her side, his arm fell across her middle and he dropped his face to the locks of golden hair spread out across his pillow. His nose nuzzled her ear and he kissed the juncture between her neck and the arch of her shoulder. Sharpay shifted in her sleep, turning onto her side, her body pressed into Troy's arms as she slumbered.

"You really don't know how much I love you, Sharpay," He whispered before he fell into oblivion.

* * *

><p>Sharpay stirred, rustling the sheet as she did. Her bladder was heavy and she needed to use the bathroom. She smiled as she turned to face Troy, he looked tired, but his face held the barest hint of a smile, his lips turned up slightly, his fringe falling over his eyes. He looked happy, content. She wondered if he'd been up half of the night thinking about the baby.<p>

"The baby," she whispered, and her hand fell to cover Troy's where it rested upon her abdomen. Her gaze fell to the two hands and Sharpay felt a sense of maternal instinct, a sense of calm. Though she was conflicted and confused; her fears deep seeded, frustrated by fears of failure, somehow, she knew that everything would be okay.

She afforded herself a tiny smile. If anybody was born to be a father it was Troy. It was natural for him, his compassion, his sense of duty, his … really hot body. Christ, could she really blame hormones for that?

In the back of her mind Ethan Solomon lurked. When she closed her eyes, his face was the first thing that popped up to remind her that she wasn't going to be sleeping fitfully that night. Surprisingly, last night she'd managed a decent amount of slumber, wrapped up in Troy's warm embrace, the safety of the Bolton's four walls working wonders for her composure.

On the other side of the door Sharpay could hear the early morning bustle of Troy's parents as they tended to their breakfast routine. So far the smell of bacon hadn't turned her stomach and Sharpay savoured the aroma of fresh-baked goods and hot buttered cinnamon toast.

With her hands on either side of his waist, Sharpay rocked her hips into Troy's, her bare thighs bumped his solid ones and his hand shot out to capture the fine locks of her hair between his fingertips.

"Do that again and we'll never leave the room, in fact," he spoke with his eyes still closed against the invasion of light that pervaded the room, "We'll stay here forever, in this room, in Albuquerque. What do you think?"

Sharpay shrugged.

"Sounds nice … but …" she stuttered, unsure of what to say.

"But we have the baby to think about now," he exhaled, twirling the flat platinum curls over in the palm of his hand. "I'm just as scared as you are, Sharpay, but let's think about this for a moment, I mean for real. You have money, I have money. Between the two of us we have money. I have savings put away, Solomon is a generous tipper, you know that. And my parents will help us. That's why we came here, to borrow the keys to the beach house. We can do this, Sharpay. Don't doubt it, don't doubt us."

"And if we didn't have the baby it would just be the two of us," Sharpay whispered, afraid to voice her inner conflict for fear of Troy's withdrawl.

Troy dropped his hand and pushed himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands.

Sharpay knew that her logic was flawed, but it was the best she had.

"Fine," he snarled as he stood to pull on his shorts. "Have it your way. It wouldn't be normal if we didn't do what Sharpay wants."

Troy tugged his sweatshirt on over his head and fumbled for his Rolex on the night stand beside him. He drew his hand through his hair and pulled his hood on in a bid to cloak his identity. He pushed through the door and into the hall, leaving Sharpay kneeling up on her haunches, wrapped up in the starchy bed sheet, silently begging for him not to leave.

She did it every single time. Why couldn't she just be happy? She wanted to be happy, she wanted to be happy with Troy.

* * *

><p>Troy stalked past his mother and father in the kitchen and into the front parlour where the shoe stand was. He took a deep breath and then called out to his father.<p>

"Dad, I'm borrowing your trainers. I need to go for a run."

Jack furrowed his brow and followed his son into the front room. Troy was bent over, tending to the laces his father had double knotted the way that he'd always done. His wife brought up the rear, a dish cloth in her hands as she dried them.

Troy tugged at the stubborn tongue lodged between the laces and pushed his foot into the shoe. He stood and bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment.

"Troy," His mother glanced at his father before she spoke. "Honey, you can't go outside. It's too dangerous. Why don't you go out the back with your father? Go work up a sweat with a ball or something? One on one, Jack," she nudged her husband.

Troy turned to his mother and smiled. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek before he grabbed the doorknob and pulled the front door open.

"Morning Mom, hope you slept well. Oh, by the way, while you were sleeping we found out that Sharpay is pregnant. But she doesn't really want to be, so you know what? I'm going out for a run around the block, and right now, I don't care if it kills me."

The door slammed behind him, the hinges creaked and groaned and Sharpay gasped.

Jack turned to see her standing in the archway from the hall, the bed sheet still draped around her like a toga.

"How long have you been standing there?" He asked Sharpay.

"Long enough to know that he's really mad," She hiccupped and turned to retreat back to the bedroom.

"Sharpay, wait," Lucille beckoned the frightened woman back. "Why don't you have a shower and freshen up? I've got muffins, and …" She swallowed thickly … "No matter what choice you make, you still need to take care of yourself."

Sharpay held her sheet with one hand and brushed her face with her free hand as fresh tears began to mar her cheeks.

"Excuse my language, Mrs. Bolton, but this whole situation is fucked up. We're on the run from a mob boss who tried to rape me. Nothing about the past week has been okay, including the last twelve hours. But I love Troy, and I'll probably never admit it to him, but I'm scared I'll do something stupid and he'll leave me."

Jack watched with wide eyes as his wife approached Sharpay, her hand extended as a peace offering. "Come on," Lucille spoke calmly, warmly to the frightened woman nurturing her first grandbaby.

Jack watched the two leave the room and scratched his head, the dish cloth slung over his shoulder. "What the fuck was that?" He asked nobody in particular.

* * *

><p>Troy's feet pounded the pavement as he picked up his heels on his way to destination unknown. The more he thought about Sharpay, her utter selfishness, his feet moved faster and his body became more fatigued. He was used to concrete, bitumen in New York, the soft terrain of New Mexico jolted his joints and made him feel every bit as old as he was.<p>

_Old enough to be a father_, he told himself. _Old enough to be responsible._

He loved her, why couldn't she see that? He'd promised to take care of her, to protect her. The sooner they left Albuquerque the better. They could lay low, they could be happy … maybe. That all depended on Sharpay now.

Troy kicked the stones that littered his path; they tumbled along idly, coming to rest at the side of the curb that lined the street. He sighed as his parents' house came within his line of sight. He had to remember to stay calm for Sharpay's sake. They weren't in New York City anymore. He jogged casually up the drive and stretched out his tired muscles before he entered the house.

The sound of laughter made him smile.

"Hi," he spoke softly as he approached Sharpay and his father at the dining room table. He leaned in to place his lips against Sharpay's temple and was surprised when she didn't object.

"Hi," She replied, her hair was damp, pulled up in a messy bun on the top of her head. There was a spread laid out in front of her, bacon and eggs with glossy yolks, sunny side up, toast and jam, fresh coffee and muffins. Troy bit his lip, he wasn't about to deny Sharpay caffeine.

Troy's mother approached with an arm full of albums. He arched a brow and looked at her sceptically. Were they bonding?

"I just wanted to show Sharpay some of your baby pictures," she explained as she took the seat on Sharpay's right hand side. "So you and your father can go and do something manly while Sharpay and I talk."

And then it all clicked, and Troy realised that there was method in his mother's madness and he loved her even more for that simple gesture.

"I love you," He told Sharpay honestly, earnestly, afraid that she would not reciprocate, that the seeds of doubt may have already been planted, that the damage had been done.

"I love you too," she replied without hesitation.

"Go on you two, get out of here," Lucille eyed her husband warily as he swiped at the rashers on the tray in front of him.

"Sustenance," He winked at his wife and then aimed a strip of crispy bacon at his son. "Take a bath kid, you're on the nose. I'll be out the back when you're done."

* * *

><p>Sharpay pulled her knees into her chest, seated on the corner cushion of the Bolton's couch, trying to ignore the awkward tension that hung in the air, having never spent time alone with Troy's mother before.<p>

"Here," Lucille stood above her, offering her a fleece blanket, "Jack is always going behind my back to turn the heat down. I don't want you to be cold."

Sharpay accepted the blanket, snuggling beneath it to warm herself, while Lucille sat down beside her, photo albums in hand. She flipped the first one open without hesitation and Sharpay giggled, greeted immediately with a picture of a baby Troy, naked in the bathtub, grimacing with his arms outstretched towards the photographer.

"Troy was our only child, so I was always there to take plenty of pictures," Lucille handed Sharpay the album, allowing her to flip through the photos herself.

"How come you never had any other children?" Sharpay asked, smiling at a photo of Troy grinning with his front tooth missing.

"Well, I always thought that eventually I would have more. But we kept waiting and putting it off and then before I knew it, Troy was in high school and it was too late," She eyed Sharpay thoughtfully, fingering one of her loose golden waves, "I always wanted a daughter though."

Sharpay chuckled, "I have a twin brother. My mother said at every difficult point in childhood, potty training, the terrible twos, she always had to put two children through it at the same time, and she knew there was no way she was going to be able to add another baby into the mix. Ryan was always pretty mellow though. I know I was the one who gave my parents the most trouble."

Lucille laughed softly, glancing at the photo album in Sharpay's hands, "Well, don't let that little boy's sweet smile fool you. Troy was quite a handful growing up too. He was always rebellious by nature as a child. If we told him it was blue he would call it red. Jack had him trained well by high school but I always sensed he felt suppressed. Obviously I should have done something about it. Things were going so well for him and then in the blink of an eye he had dropped out of college and moved to New York and then he never came home to visit or even called..."

Sharpay could tell Troy's mother was growing emotional, impending moisture gathering at the edge of her bottom lids, and Sharpay trembled, swallowing the painful lump that now gathered in her own throat. She had done the same thing to her own parents. Her poor father might not have been at home much during her childhood, but he had loved her and spoiled her rotten, and she knew he had to miss her terribly. Even her mother, with whom she had often been at odds with during her teenage years, she thought of every day with longing and regret.

"What's wrong, dear?" Lucille rubbed Sharpay's shoulder while the girl's lower lip trembled.

Sharpay shook her head, wiping away thoughts of her poor abandoned parents, and focused on Troy's family instead, "Mrs. Bolton, I'm sorry. You're being so kind to me and I know deep down you must hate me for being a part of that world that took your son away from you."

Lucille shook her head firmly, patting Sharpay's leg through the fleece throw, "You're wrong. Don't you see? You're the reason that Troy's come home to us. He left New York to protect you. There's a reason your worlds collided miles away from your home. Sharpay, I know the circumstances are less than ideal, but I think one day you'll see that everything happens for a reason and I trust my son to do the right thing and take care of you."

Sharpay ran her thumbs underneath her eyes to catch the tears and nodded her appreciation to Troy's mother.

"Look," Lucille leant forward, flipping the page of the photo album, "This one's my favourite. Both knees and elbows skinned and bleeding and he's too happy to even notice."

Sharpay giggled at the photo of the dirty, sweaty little boy collapsed in the grass.

Lucille wrapped an arm around her shoulder and added, "Oh, and by the way, call me Lucy."

* * *

><p>Troy rapped gently at the door. His mother had informed him that Sharpay was upstairs in his room resting, and he could only hope that the bonding time with Lucille had been a positive experience for her, and that he would find her in better spirits.<p>

"Come in," Sharpay granted him entrance into his own bedroom, and he stepped in hesitantly.

He found her seated, legs crossed, on the bed, flipping through the channels on the small television on top of his dresser.

"Anything good on?" He asked softly, shutting the door behind him and walking cautiously towards the bed.

She shrugged, "Not really. Even if there were, I don't think I'd be able to focus on anything."

She used the remote to cut the power off, placing it on the nightstand to her left and sighing heavily, "Troy, I'm sorry."

He quickly kicked off his shoes, crawling on the bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her in what he hoped was a comforting embrace, "Don't be. You have no reason to apologize. I'm sorry, Sharpay. I shouldn't have blown up the way I did."

"I know what I said upset you Troy," She pressed her forehead against his, "I'm just so tired of being unhappy. And I feel irresponsible and almost cruel for being stupid enough to allow a baby to come into all of this."

"Ssh," Troy hushed her, rubbing his hand over the small of her back, "You've got to stop blaming yourself. And sweetie it kills me to know you're depressed, but I swear all I want to do is spend every day trying to make you happy again. I love you so much, Sharpay. I just want to take care of you and protect you. We're going to lay low for a while, until Solomon is off of our tracks. Then I'm going to find a job, a real job, no shady business involved, and I'm going to support you and our new little baby. And you're going to stay at home and be a mother and never do anything as degrading as taking your clothes off for money again, okay?"

Sharpay nodded, their noses bumping together as she did, and Troy grabbed her by the nape of her neck, sealing his promise to her with a kiss.

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for reading. Hopefully everybody liked, even if this was a shorter chapter.

There are two authors behind this story and we both work very hard on it, so as always, thoughtful reviews are very much appreciated.

xoxo.


End file.
